


It Takes A Village

by ThatSassyCaptain



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Mystery, Suspense, Transporter Malfunction, Triumvirate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:25:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSassyCaptain/pseuds/ThatSassyCaptain
Summary: Transporter malfunction turns Bones into a toddler. Can the crew keep him out of trouble, or will young Leonard McCoy be too much to handle?





	1. Transporter Accidents

There were odd transporter accidents, and then there were _odd_ transporter accidents. The difference between the two was determined by the height achieved by the First Officer’s eyebrow.

The eyebrow skyrocketed.

It was reasonable since the child- _yes_ , a child, and no more than four at that- was almost drowning in a puddle of cloth. A pair of uniform pants served to obscure his feet, while the rest of him was lost in a field of blue. The expected stripes of a Lieutenant Commander couldn’t be seen.

“Mister Scott, just what the devil-”

“I cannae tell you Captain, everything was _fine_ a moment ago-”

Spock alone noticed the sniffle and the moisture welling up in the child’s eyes.

“Gentlemen. I recommend that you lower your voices.”

The chatter in the transporter room stopped. The Captain and the Chief Engineer had been shamed into silence, and now they didn’t have anything to say. Spock took it upon himself to handle the situation.

“Doctor McCoy?” The child’s head snapped up in recognition. He stared at Spock, wide-eyed and more than a little frightened.

“Where’s my dad?” Barely audible, the question still echoed in the stillness of the transporter room. Spock took a step forward, nodding to his Captain. A call should be made to Sickbay at once.

The boy took a step back and stumbled on the overlarge uniform. He landed on the transporter pad, likely uninjured, but the fear, shock, and confusion of the last few moments caught up with him.

He started to scream.

Spock was frozen in place. He was… unsure as to what would calm this child. It was undoubtedly Leonard McCoy, the man they had thought they were beaming up. In the back of Spock’s mind, several possibilities flickered through his head- about the planet’s atmosphere, about the minerals there, the organic compounds sitting in the soil-

Nurse Chapel and the medical team arrived quickly. She took one look at the sobbing child and hurried over to scoop him up. “What’s the matter sweetheart? Are you hurt? Did you fall?”

So shocked was the young McCoy, that his throat closed up for a moment and he was unable to speak. His eyes flicked back to Spock and the others. The tears kept pouring on.

“Where’s my dad?” He squeaked. It was a helpless little noise, and Chapel’s heart could hardly bear it.

She adjusted her grip so he was close and comfortable. “What’s his name? I’m Head Nurse on this ship, and if I can’t find him, no one can.”

The child sniffed. He looked up at Chapel with such trust, it was hard to believe he didn’t remember a thing. “He’s a Doctor. All the other doctors say ‘David McCoy’ but Momma calls him ‘Dave’.” His voice wavered, but he got it all out.

Chapel did more than keep a straight face. She smiled down at the poor kid and spoke with confidence. “Well! I certainly know a Doctor McCoy. He and I work together.” Chapel knew children could always detect lies. She’d tell the truth with a smile. “I’m afraid he’s done all his doctoring for the day, but seeing as he’s out of Sickbay, you can hang out with me.”

The little boy frowned. It seemed like he believed her, but just as the true explanation was beyond his grasp, so were several other things.

“Why can’t I go home then? Where are my shoes?” He was looking down and around to try and determine why he was in this unfamiliar room. “Is this the hospital? Am I sick?”

Chapel bit her lip and glanced back at the Captain. She’d have to keep bluffing. “I don’t know where you put your shoes, sweetie, but we’ll have you in a better outfit in no time. And you can go home as soon as you’re better, I promise. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

Kirk didn’t look happy but he smiled for little Leonard’s benefit. “Absolutely. As Captain of the _Enterprise_ , I will personally guarantee to take you back where you live and return your shoes. How’s that sound?”

Thinking he was ill might explain away the people walking on eggshells around him. Chapel could feel Leonard calming. He was in an unfamiliar environment and likely still scared, but he wasn’t crying anymore.

“OK.” Leonard sniffed. “I’ll be good.”

By all appearances, the child had been sick before. Sick enough to feel comfortable around nurses, even strange ones.

“You’ve been so good, and I’m very sorry for scaring you like that.” Kirk spoke up again. “We weren’t expecting you to arrive right now, so Mister Scott and I were a little flustered. Forgive us?” Scotty was a little dumbstruck too, but he smiled at the wee lad like they were the same old friends.

 _Playacting_. Spock’s brain conjured the word without prompting. They were all telling half-truths, exaggerating, accommodating at a moment’s notice for the Doctor’s sake. Until they could figure out what had happened, he was for all intents and purposes a small child and must be treated as such. _Fascinating_.

The boy nodded, and Chapel kept murmuring to him as she and the medical team headed off. The doors shut to the sound of ‘Can I ride the stretcher?’ echoing down the hall.

Kirk groaned and rubbed at his temples.

“I’ll get to work on it right away, sir.” Was Scotty’s response. Spock remained where he stood, eyes fixed on the pile of clothes on the transporter pad. There were Doctor McCoy’s uniform pants, his boots, his tricorder, and the ring he usually wore. The bit of metal glinted up at him from a crease in the black fabric. It would immediately slip off the small hand of a toddler.

“Captain.” He turned to address Kirk. “I believe I maybe be of some assistance in Sickbay. With your permission…?”

Kirk nodded. “I’ll stay behind and help with the transporter. The last time we did something like this, I was two people. Now Bones is half a person.” He grinned, but the smile never reached his eyes. “Do whatever he needs you to.”

Spock nodded and left.

 

Little Leonard McCoy behaved beautifully after he ‘figured out’ what was going on. He was excited that his ‘hospital’ was a starship, even if he never got to meet the CMO. That was an awkward subject the crew avoided as much as possible.

He was a model patient, sitting quietly while Chapel and M’Benga ran their tests. Leonard ‘Momma calls me Len’ McCoy was calmer than they thought possible. He did ask to see his mom once, but Chapel explained they couldn’t send her a subspace message at this time. Len took it all in stride. They assured him his father would be proud.

The only incident occurred when Spock arrived. Little Len was sitting cross-legged on his biobed while Chapel ran his results through the computer in the next room. He had a new set of clothes- clothes that fit a toddler- as well as a warm looking pair of socks. He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, simply watching the biobed monitor beep and cycle.

It was only when he noticed Spock that the trouble started. Apparently, he hadn’t heard the First Officer enter. Len turned suddenly, shrieked, and jumped off the biobed. Spock’s eyebrows hit the roof and he hurried after the miniature Doctor. If anything happened to him, Spock would not only feel responsible but incredibly guilty.

He caught up with the would-be escape artist quickly. Len screamed again as he was hoisted into the air, and began kicking and shoving with all his might.

“Put me down!” He cried. “I don’t _like you!_ ” Spock, not at all shocked by the declaration, returned to the biobed and set the boy down. His screaming had drawn Nurse Chapel back from the computer.

“Spock! What happened? Did he fall again?” She hurried over with a hand scanner. Len was wailing and trying to crawl up into her arms.

“I believe I… startled him, Nurse.” Spock admitted. “He jumped off the biobed in an attempt to avoid me further.”

By this time Chapel had scooped their tiny doctor into her arms. Len buried his face into her uniform and continued crying, though the sound was muffled.

Spock took a hesitant step back. “If he is so disturbed by my presence, I shall leave at once. Good day, Nurse. Keep me informed-”

Chapel looked up at him sharply. “Now wait just a minute!” She rocked Len and began patting his back to calm him. “I need your help here- we all do. He’s so little; I bet he’s never seen a Vulcan before. He’s been shying away from some of the passing officers too. I think he’s just nervous around strangers.”

The child’s crying had subsided to sniffles. Chapel pulled him back so she could see his face.

“Are you scared of Mister Spock?”

Len glanced over his shoulder and balled his fists back into Chapel’s uniform. He nodded mutely.

“Why is he so scary? He’s First Officer of the ship, one of Captain Kirk’s best friends.” Keeping his head down, Len mumbled something into Chapel’s shoulder. “What was that, sweetie? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He’s a Romulan!” Len said much louder. “Like on the holo-show! Romulans hit ladies and shoot people!”

Chapel’s jaw dropped and Spock couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised.

“Young Leonard…” Spock began. He wasn’t sure how to phrase this effectively, but he would try. “I am Vulcan. Romulans look very similar to Vulcans, but we are not the same.”

Len was still clinging to Chapel like a lifeline, but he didn’t look away. “A Vulcan?” He blinked. “Dad met some Vulcans one time. His wife was a lady and he didn’t hit her and she was _this big_.” Len flung his arms out wide. “Because she was gonna have a baby.”

Chapel had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Their tiny doctor was _too cute_. Spock had no difficulty in keeping a straight face, though there was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke.

“Vulcans do not believe in hitting ladies, or firing phasers when it is unnecessary. We are a peaceful and logical people.”

Len stared at him a long time before looking back to Chapel. “Is he?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. Mister Spock is a gentleman and a fine officer. Now, let’s get you back into that bed.”

“Do I have to?” He pouted. “I been sittin’ there all day and I don’t even feel sick, see?” Len reached up and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her forehead down to rest against his. “Don’t even have a fever or nothin’.”

Chapel grinned and conceded. “Well, _Doctor McCoy_ , I’d say you’re well enough to head down to the mess hall. Mister Spock, would you mind?” She set Leonard down and looked to him. “I’ve got those… scans to go over.”

They were still looking for a way to change him back. The Sickbay staff had not yet discovered a medical means to return their CMO to his proper state. That mean they would have to continue as they had been until the answer was found.

Spock looked down at the child and nodded. “I will escort him. I believe I am familiar enough with the Doctor’s synthesizer recipes to produce something adequate for lunch.”

 

 


	2. A Stomach With Legs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The much awaited second installment.

Len McCoy didn’t have shoes and he let everyone know it. He giggled as his sock-covered feet padded silently down the ship’s corridors. If he could contain his mirth long enough, he could creep up behind unsuspecting ensigns and startle them.

He _could_ if Spock wasn’t on top of it.

“Come along, Leonard.” Spock resigned himself to picking the child up and carrying him as he’d seen Nurse Chapel do. Len was not happy about this turn of events, but he’d stopped reacting so loudly. Spock’s ears were grateful.

“But I wanna _walk_.” He whined. Spock wasn’t nearly as fun as that nice Nurse Chapel.

“You will not be permitted to walk unaccompanied, and scaring ensigns is not appropriate behavior for a Starfleet officer.” The only made Len pout more. He was totally enamored with the idea of being a “Space Doctor” in a big “Space Hospital Ship” like this one. Spock was coming to find that comments like this were _extremely effective._

They arrived at the officers’ mess without too much fuss. Nearly everyone had cleared out for the upcoming shift, and there were only a few diners left after the lunch rush.

“I very much wanted to tell Meester Scott where he could stick that soldering coil; I said- Oh! Meester Spock. I did not realize we had… guests onboard.”

Chekov and his lunch companions snapped to attention. What was no doubt a very interesting and insubordinate tale had been interrupted by the arrival of their commanding officer and a toddler. The end of that story was unsuitable for both sets of ears.

“My goodness, Mister Spock!” Uhura declared, her eyes twinkling. “What an adorable little boy! And here I was, sure we didn’t have guests either!”

Sulu nodded in his affirmation, hiding any potential comments behind a cup of coffee.

“Indeed.” Spock wasn’t one to mince words. “He has only just arrived. I take you haven’t heard-”

“Well ain’t you the prettiest lady I ever did see!” Len McCoy hollered. “Momma calls me ‘Len’ and I’m takin’ you to dinner!”

Sulu choked on his coffee and spit all over Chekov, who could hardly be bothered to care he was laughing so hard. Uhura’s grin split her face from ear to ear, and Spock felt more than a little uncomfortable.

“Well, aren’t you a little charmer!” Uhura stood up to shake the tiny hand. More quietly, she murmured to Spock, “I wonder where in the world he picked _that_ up from.”

“Undoubtedly from the ‘holo-shows’ he is inordinately fond of. Already he has likened me to a Romulan who ‘hits ladies and shoots people’.”

Uhura smiled knowingly. “Do you watch a lot of holo-shows, Mister Len?”

The boy nodded. “My Momma likes the one about the doctors who go on dates. When I’m grown, I’m gonna be a doctor too, and then I can buy you dinner!”

The Lieutenant’s smile was a little less bright as the pieces fell into place. She looked at Spock, and then back to the young doctor-to-be. “Don’t tell me you’re the famous Leonard McCoy…?”

Spock found Uhura’s efforts to ‘play it off cool’ commendable. The boy didn’t notice. “Yes ma’am I am!” He turned to Spock. “Does everybody on the ship know my Dad?”

“They are all well-acquainted with Doctor McCoy. I believe you will find that most of them are familiar with you.” The atmosphere in the room had become heavier, now that all of the officers were on the same page. Chekov and Sulu couldn’t really stop staring, even if their expressions were pleasant enough.

“Perhaps it would be best to have lunch before becoming concerned about dinner, Leonard.” Spock nodded to the trio at the table before walking over to the food synthesizers. Len waved bye over the Vulcan’s shoulder.

“Can I have pecan pie?” Len asked. Spock was becoming increasingly aware of the child’s volume and marveled at how such a small set of lungs could make so much noise.

“After you have consumed an appropriate quantity of nutritional food substance, that will be acceptable.” Spock missed the furrowed brows as he pulled up the Doctor’s food preferences on the computer. “I will synthesize a ‘baked potato with all the fixin’s’, carrot slices, and applesauce. Provided you are still hungry afterwards, you may have a slice of pie.”

“I’m gonna eat it all!” was the vociferous response. Spock requested a child’s portion of the dishes and waited for the food to synthesize. Leonard was delighted and clapped his hands excitedly at the prospect of lunch.

Spock took the tray and the small doctor to one of the tables and set them down. Leonard immediately grabbed for the applesauce, almost upsetting the bowl. Spock steadied it and offered the child a spoon instead. “Nurse Chapel would not be pleased if I returned you to the Sickbay _covered in applesauce_.” He emphasized this point with one of his eyebrows.

Len sat quietly and waited for the entire tray to settle before going after the applesauce again. Once satisfied that Leonard would not make a mess of things, Spock returned to the synthesizer for his own lunch. He selected one of his usual salad mixes, one with Vulcan spices and acceptable nutritional value.

There was no applesauce disaster when he returned. Astonishingly, Leonard was eating without any fuss. He scooped the applesauce into his mouth faster than Spock thought possible, yet none of the semi-liquid substance spilled. The potato was Leonard’s next victim, and a much messier one. Sour cream, cheese, and little bits of bacon were scattered across the tray and the front of his shirt. Too little too late, Spock remembered napkins.

“Please endeavor to keep your clothing free of food.” Spock tried to mop up the splotches of sour cream while Leonard strived to make more.

“You talk like a computer!” He spit bits of cheese and potato on Spock’s sleeve. “Are all the Vulcans like that or are you a robot Vulcan?”

Spock had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Leonard McCoy seemed to be consistently outspoken, messy, and blunt. “Vulcans are not all alike, though most are quite similar to myself in behavior and mannerisms.”

Len blinked up at him but continued shoveling potato into his mouth. After he finished scraping the potato skin with his fork, he began scooping up carrot slices. Spock merely raised an eyebrow at the boy’s antics and went back to his salad.

A few minutes later, there was a clatter of silverware. Spock looked up sharply. Len was looking up at him, expectation in his eyes.

“Can I have my pie now?”

Faster than Spock had imagined possible, Leonard had eaten all of the food, and was now chanting “Pie! Pie! Pie!” Who was he to refuse, under such pressure? It seemed Spock would have to meet those demands or subject himself to additional methods of persuasion.

Spock got up and headed over to the food synthesizer. Momma McCoy’s famous pecan pie was a much-beloved recipe of the Doctor’s, and the recipe was often pulled up. The little door opened, and there before him was a hot slice of pie. Now Leonard was cheering from the table. Suddenly, Spock’s become a hero.

The pie was gone almost faster than the applesauce, and Spock was grateful for a few moments of silence.

Pretty soon after, Jim came striding through the doors, covered from the waist up in grease and conductivity fluid. He was wiping himself down with a towel, but there was no saving his shirt. Captain and clothing were filthy.

“Did you fix your car?” Leonard spit crumbs all over the table. “Dad fixed the car before he took it to the shop, and he looked just like you!” He shoved the last of his piecrust into his mouth and stared as Jim went over to the food synthesizers for himself.

“Spock. How’s our littlest patient?” Jim was looking over the mess on the table as he got his black coffee.

Spock set down his fork and turned toward his captain. “Leonard has a large appetite, Captain. He has consumed a full meal already.”

“Really?” Jim sat down next to the bottomless stomach. “I can see you enjoyed it.”

Len didn’t respond. He was staring at his tray, littered with bits of cheese, but he didn’t make a move toward any of it. Now that Jim was looking, Leonard wasn’t moving much at all.

“Len?” Jim put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

Before responding, Len put a hand to his stomach. He looked up at Jim, suddenly pale. “I don’t feel good.”

The captain’s eyebrows shot up. “We should get you to Nurse Chapel right away.” He picked the boy up off the bench and headed toward the door. Before leaving, he turned his head back. “Spock-”

It was a good thing his shirt was already ruined. The article certainly didn’t survive the second appearance of that baked potato.


	3. Emergency!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to anifanatical, wherever you are. Edit: Thanks for BOTH stunning pieces from your inktober. I'm screaming internally.

Nurse Chapel was going to let Spock have it.

While Doctor M’Benga was making sure Len was comfortable, she dragged the shame-faced Vulcan into McCoy’s office for a little chat.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t realize what would happen.” Chapel addressed him sternly once they were alone, “But I’m still holding you responsible. What were you thinking, letting him eat all that _and_ pie?”

Spock pursed his lips and glanced down at the floor. “Vulcan children are taught self-control from a very early age. It was a grave oversight on my part, Nurse. I take full responsibility for what has occurred.”

Chapel’s glare softened, but she was still plenty upset. Len had started crying again on the way to Sickbay, and the Captain wasn’t in a good mood at all.

“It’s a little more dangerous than you might be aware, Mister Spock.” Her voice was low, and she glanced back at the empty desk sadly.

Spock followed her gaze. He did not know of any digestive issues that Doctor McCoy had, although if he developed them here as a child, they might carry over when they got him back to normal.

“I did not intend to create new problems for the Doctor. I hope he does not suffer any ill-effects of this incident.”

Chapel turned back to face him. “It’s not that I’m concerned about, really it’s just… Before I say anything else, tell me how this all works. What is his state, physically?”

Spock frowned. She had seen the scans and the data. She had all the same information.

“He is, as you said, a little older than four years of age.”

“Is he just four years old? Or is he _exactly_ how he was, physically, right after he turned four?”

Spock blinked. “It is my hypothesis that the transporter simply regressed him to a previous physical state, as he does not remember us or anything that occurred after the age of four.”

Chapel bit her lip. “That’s what I was afraid of. I couldn’t tell you _exactly_ how old he is, down to the day, but shortly after his fourth birthday, Leonard had an emergency tonsillectomy. If we have him only a few days after that…”

“This episode could be extremely detrimental to his health.” Spock finished. Oh, how grave a mistake this was.

“M’Benga’s checking him over now. If he busted anything, we’ll know in a minute. Other than that, I really want to keep him here where we can watch him. I’m not sure if he’ll like it, but the chances of something going wrong are a lot lower here.”

Spock nodded. They were not equipped to handle a child on this starship. The closest they ever came was the occasional transport of colonists, but in most cases the child’s parents were there as well.

“May I see him, Nurse? I wish to apologize.”

Chapel’s shoulders finally dropped, and she relaxed. “Come back in twenty minutes and we should be good.”

Spock spent those twenty minutes preparing a report for the ship- a debriefing to all personnel on the change that had occurred- and pondering over the situation. Instead of a loud, outspoken physician, they had a loud, outspoken child. Spock considered the situation carefully. What could he do to remedy the mistakes he had made?

* * *

 

Jim Kirk was glad the ship’s tailor had finished doing his shirts _yesterday_. He strode back into the Sickbay in his green tunic, two showers later. When he arrived, he found Doctor M’Benga filling out a report. Wonderful timing.

“Ah, Captain.” M’Benga set the PADD aside and folded his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?”

Jim smiled and tried looking over the Doctor’s shoulder. “I’m here to see Bones. How is he?”

“Lucky, Captain.” M’Benga said. “It looks like his tonsillectomy happened a good few weeks ago. He’ll be right as rain in a little while.”

The Captain’s expression faltered and M’Benga realized where the communication broke down. “Leonard had an emergency tonsillectomy shortly after his fourth birthday, and we were concerned. But there’s nothing to worry about. He’s doing fine.”

“Can I see him?”

“Of course.” M’Benga stepped aside and gestured to the doorway. “Go right ahead.”

Jim nodded his thanks and hurried into the next room. Sickbay only had one occupant, currently, and he was being swallowed by both the orange sheets, and what looked like an oversize stuffed bear. Heck, it was nearly as big as Len himself.

Their little doctor looked up at Jim’s approach and his eyes widened. He started tearing up and gripping the bear tightly. Jim stopped a little ways off and frowned.

“What’s wrong, Leonard?”

Len sniffed. “I’m sorry Captain Jim.” His lip quavered as he tried to apologize. “I ate too fast and I got sick all over your shirt. I’m really really sorry. Momma says I oughta know better not to eat too much. I just wanted to have some pie…”

Jim, touched by the sincere apology, decided to intervene before the waterworks started in earnest. “It’s alright, Leonard, I’m not mad at you.” He came closer and set a hand on Len’s shoulder. “You know when I eat too much, Doctor McCoy yells about how I should eat healthier and go on a diet.”

Len managed a giggle, so Jim plowed on. “He says I need to take better care of myself, or he’ll change my meal card so I can only get salads! That’s not very nice is it?”

The giggles got louder and Len shook his head. “My Momma says everybody should eat healthy, but on Halloween I caught her eating my candy! I don’t think it’s very fair, since grown-ups can buy candy whenever they want, but I have to work hard for it!”

That got a laugh out of Jim. “I bet you work hard, too, don’t you?”

Len nodded vigorously. “This Halloween, I was Kad Kelso and everybody wanted me to do his touchdown dance. I had to dance at every single house we went to! Momma didn’t have to do nothin’!”

Jim couldn’t help himself. He was laughing so hard M’Benga poked his head in to see if everything was alright. _Kad Kelso_. It didn’t get much better than that.

Once Jim had calmed down some, he decided to go after another question. “Where’d you get that great big bear from, anyhow? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Len grabbed the thing round the middle and hefted it into the air. Jim had been right; it was about as big as little Leonard was.

“Look at my bear! Somebody left him here while I was taking my nap, but I don’t know what his name is.”

Jim was a little sorry he’d missed seeing that nap, as cute a toddler as Leonard was. Frankly, this was all too adorable for him to handle.

“I figure if someone left him here, it’ll be OK for you to pick out a name.” Jim grinned. If it wasn’t for the report he’d be writing up later, this might almost be fun.

* * *

 

Dinner came and went and young Leonard McCoy was starting to get antsy. The nurses were working and Captain Jim had gone back on duty. His mom couldn’t visit and his dad was done for the day, so Len didn’t have anything to do. He decided he’d have his own fun.

Len got up on his tippy toes and switched off the biobed monitor like he’d seen his dad do. These were fancier beds than he’d ever seen, but the switch was in the same place. After that, he tossed his big ol’ bear onto the floor and jumped down after it. Now was the time to play.

Nobody was around late in the evening, apparently, because Len didn’t see a soul as he snuck out of the ward and into the main area. There was a desk with a computer and a tricorder right there in front of him. Len reached up and dragged the tricorder off his desk. It was heavier than he thought, but he managed to carry it back into the other room.

He still needed more equipment. Len waited a moment before sneaking out again. He wanted a hypospray, bandages, and one of the breathing masks they gave him after his surgery. All those things would be in the supply closet.

It was pure luck that he found the door without being caught. Len went straight in and started grabbing one of everything. There were so many gadgets in here, he couldn’t leave without all the supplies he needed.

Unfortunately, he didn’t go unnoticed for long.

“Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?”

Leonard dropped the roll of bandages and spun around. It was the Captain and Spock. They’d caught him red handed.

“I’m waiting for an answer. What are you doing in here?”

Len tightened his arms around his supplies. “I need them! I gotta do surgery!”

Both Jim and Spock froze. Had McCoy gotten back his memory, if not his stature? Was there a medical emergency only he was qualified to handle?

“Mister Bear is having an emergency!”

Jim sighed. He was still four years old, and just as mischievous as any child. But they couldn’t have him abscond with supplies that did _not_ belong in the hands of a child, now could they?

“Indeed? Then we should hurry before the situation deteriorates.” Spock moved out of the door and gestured for Leonard to pass through. Len was off like a shot.

Jim gave him a look. “Really, Commander?”

Spock fired one right back. “It could be beneficial to provide mental cues he is familiar with. Perhaps the information is still locked somewhere in his memory.”

Groaning, Jim turned to follow their little doctor. “Alright, Spock, but if he hypos himself-”

“I need 10 ccs of drugs right away!”

Spock picked up his pace and moved to assist Leonard. Jim stood by the door and watched. Their doctor had already unraveled most of the bandages and was making an attempt to turn the bear into a mummy.

“Doctor McCoy, are you aware that this is a _sehlat_ , and not an Earth bear?”

Len paused in his ministrations. “What’s a say-lat?”

Spock flipped the bear over and pointed to the fangs. Now that Jim was looking at the front end of the animal, he could see it _was_ indeed a sehlat.

“It is very much like a bear, but their internal organs are not the same. If you use Earth medicines on a sehlat, you may very well do him harm.”

“Oh.” Len looked at the roll of bandages and the tricorder. “Nurse Spock! Scan the patient so we can know what drugs to use! I’ll do his bandaids!”

Jim had to hide his face behind his hand. Any more of this, and he might have to leave the room.

“Doctor, we must give him a dose of dulceramine at once.”

“Let me do the shot!”

“What in the world is going on here?!”

Everyone stopped and turned towards the outer door. Nurse Chapel was standing there, frazzled, appearing as if she had run all the way.

“I’m doin’ surgery!”

Chapel glanced over the scene, ignoring Kirk in stitches to peruse the huge mess on the floor.

“Who turned off the biobed monitor without notifying me? I ran all the way here thinking the worst…”

Len’s smile fell and he hurried to Chapel’s side. “Are you mad I made a big mess? I’ll clean it all up an’ put everything back where I found it, promise.”

She leaned down and pulled him up into her arms. “I’m not worried about the mess, Leonard. When I saw your biobed monitor was off, I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

Chapel was starting to tear up, what with the stress of caring for her boss as a child _and_ making sure said child stayed safe until they could change him back… Len started sniffling as well and he reached out a tiny hand to wipe the tears off her face.

“I’m r-real sorry ma’am, I promise I won’t do it again. You don’t gotta cry, see? I’m OK.”

Jim was startled that McCoy’s ‘Don’t you cry or I’m gonna cry’ reflex had been active so young. Then again, it was getting late. He might be tired enough for what little emotional control he had to start failing.

“Maybe Spock and I should go. It’s about time to turn in for the night, right Nurse?”

Chapel bounced Leonard up and down on her hip and agreed. “I think it’s time somebody got some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Spock picked up the stuffed sehlat off the ground and set it back onto Leonard’s bed. “Doctor McCoy, if you would look after our patient until the morning, I think he will make a full recovery.”

“Alright.” Len sniffed. He seemed to be a fairly sensitive child, worrying far more about how others felt than the things he wanted to do. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t sneak out.”

They stayed long enough to see him tucked in before they said their goodbyes. Chapel made sure the biobed was back on before retreating to the Doctor’s office.

Len kissed Mister Sehlat-Bear goodnight before falling fast asleep.


	4. Flying & Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teensy bit of exposition, with a side of plot-furthering. Expect the next update soon, as I have FINALLY HAMMERED OUT A PLOT FOR THIS SUCKER!!!!

Nurse Chapel could not be more nervous about her shift. Len had slept without incident according to Nurse Radley’s report, but now it was time for shifts to change and for her to see just what they were dealing with today.

So far, their CMO was still a child. He’d made no progress in the night, but Chapel scanned the biobed readouts anyway. There were spikes of wakefulness on the chart, but Len hadn’t gotten out of bed. People dodged her in the corridors. They knew not to mess with Chapel when she was focused on something.

Sickbay was quiet. That was always a little worrisome, but Chapel had confidence in her coworkers. She made her way into the side room and found Nurse Radley handing off a breakfast tray to their littlest crewmember.

Len was taking this syrup-soaked slice of waffle slowly, painstakingly, up towards his mouth. He chewed an extensive amount before swallowing. This was a child who had learned his lesson, and might be overcompensating just a bit.

“Good morning. How’s everyone doing?” Chapel set her PADD on the table and approached the bedside.

Radley smiled, looking not too tired after a night of watching over his CMO. There was something about his eyes which made Chapel think about checking with him before he went off-duty. It was the look of a man who’d very much like to have a conversation in private.

Len finished his bite of waffle and waved at her. “Good morning! Nurse Dennis brought me breakfast!”

‘Nurse Dennis’ chuckled and offered Len the glass of orange juice. “He didn’t want to get out of bed until you got here. He said he didn’t want you to worry.”

Chapel bit her lip to try and keep a neutral expression. Gosh darn it, the little CMO was too cute to deal with. “Len, do you mind if I borrow Nurse Dennis a minute? I want to go over this chart with him before he goes and gets his own breakfast.”

Len nodded and dove right back into his food. Chapel gave Radley a look and they adjourned to the CMO’s office.

“What’s with the look, Radley? Did something happen that you didn’t include in the report?” Chapel didn’t bother with the desk and chairs, but got straight to the point when the door had closed.

Dennis Radley looked concerned. He shot a quick glance at the door before sighing. “He woke up a bunch, you have it there on the readout.” He gestured to the PADD. “I didn’t think it ought to go in the log, but he had nightmares.” Radley paused to collect his thoughts. Nurse Chapel got the feeling that this wasn’t going to be a story she wanted to hear.

“He told me about them. Len said one of them was his granddad in the hospital, except he was really sick and looked like a skeleton. He said it was scary because it only got worse and there wasn’t anything he could do to help. Doctor McCoy told me a story once about his grandfather, so I was able to help calm him down and reassure him that everything was fine. But he didn’t want to go back to sleep.” Dennis chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Almost started crying. I had to read to him until he dropped off again.”

Chapel’s heart sank. That was another complication they didn’t need, Len under any more stress than he was already. Something about this whole ordeal didn’t sit well with her, like the fact that the poor boy was already accustomed to hospital life. Of course, Doctor McCoy was fit as a fiddle and psychologically fine, but they weren’t equipped to deal with an emotionally burdened toddler. Chapel was sure they didn’t have a child psychologist onboard. The closest staff member they had was, well, four years old at the moment.

“I guess we need a better arrangement.” She sighed. “Sickbay is the best place for him on paper, but it’s not a particularly comforting environment for a child. He’s probably stressed in ways we’re not aware to measure. Before you go, could you make a note in your report? No details, just a recommendation for a different location. That’ll make my paperwork easier.”

Nurse Radley nodded. “Will do. I’ll get that amended before breakfast. Afterwards, though, I’m getting a good 8 hours myself!”

Chapel let him go. Radley was a nice young man, but just as unequipped as the rest of them. Being good with kids was one thing, but being a child psychologist…

“How are those waffles, Len? Is that enough food for you?” Chapel smiled warmly. She was sure Len would be happy not spending the night in a hospital environment.

Len nodded. He was all smiles and syrup. The biobed would soon be covered in crumbs. Oh well. “And the orange juice is really good!” He spilled less of that, to Chapel’s amazement.

She smiled. “Good. I’m going to have a talk with the Captain in a little while. If you behave and he says it’s alright, you might be able to go play in the rec room later today.”

Len’s head shot up at the word ‘play’ and he nodded more fervently than before. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good that Captain Jim will give you a promotion! The nurses with the best patients always get promotions at the hospital.”

The kid couldn’t get sweeter if he tried. Chapel grinned at him again and gestured to the tray. “Finish up, and we can go get you a bath and something clean to wear.”

Len picked up the plate and licked off the syrup. Chapel was certain Mrs. McCoy wouldn’t approve, but she kept her mouth shut. This sticky mess was going to get a bath pretty soon anyway. Well, a shower. The tank wasn’t filled all the way up and that might not be a wise move at this juncture. Better safe than sorry with their walking disaster waiting to happen.

“Have you ever used a sonic shower before, or does your mom make you use the old-fashioned ones?” Chapel helped Len down off the bed. It wouldn’t do to have him leaping off again and hurting himself. The biobeds were a little tall for toddlers.

Len frowned. “Is that the one that doesn’t do water? They have those at Dad’s hospital, but they’re not fun. You don’t even get soap to play with!” He looked more comfortable after being set on the floor. Chapel held out her hand and Len took it. Wherever she was leading, he’d follow.

“It may not be fun, but it’ll get you clean. You don’t want to run all over the ship with sticky hands now do you?” She ignored the quiet “Maybe” and led him to the shower area. While he got clean, she’d put in a call to requisitions. The boy needed a pair of shoes and maybe a _bell_.

He was singing in the shower when she got back. It was a cute little nonsense song- something about a girl named Matilda and a ghost or so Chapel supposed- but Len stopped singing quickly at her knock.

“I have your new clothes, Leonard. If you dim the shower door, I can drop them inside on the counter.”

She heard the tiny “OK” echoing off the bathroom walls. Chapel counted to ten, and then scurried in to deposit the clothes. The shower door was totally opaque, but this still felt… odd. Would she have felt as awkward if Leonard was back to normal? Chapel thought no, but she also hoped she wouldn’t have to do this bit ever again.

The wait outside wasn’t very long. Len got dressed quickly, even if he did put his shoes on the wrong feet. Chapel helped him fix that.

“Alright, Len. Today we’ve got to run a few tests before the Captain comes by. We’re going to need to do another blood sample, OK?”

Len nodded solemnly. It seemed like he understood how important the tests were, even if he didn’t like them. Chapel just wished she had something better than a lollipop to give him.

* * *

 

Jim Kirk tried to keep a steady pace going down to Sickbay. There was no news on Bones, which probably meant no good news, but there was something else: Scotty came back with a report stating that there was no outside anomaly influencing the transporter after all. No minerals on the planet’s surface, no stellar or cosmic waves or, to quote Scotty, “any of that gobbledygook”. That meant a whole transporter overhaul was due. When it rained, it poured…

Suddenly, a piercing shriek punched past the solid Sickbay doors. In the back of his mind, Jim thought he was getting far too old for this. He broke into a run.

Oh he really, _really_ wished Bones would stop scaring him like that. The little guy was in the capable hands of Lieutenant (JG) Anfin, who thought to amuse him by tossing him up into the air. Anfin caught Len with one arm and transferred him up to her shoulders.

“Are you tall enough to touch the ceiling?” Len stuck his hands over his head and found he was still short by a lot. It wouldn’t be safe tossing him in the air otherwise.

“Almost.” Anfin humored him. “If I got a running start, maybe.”

Len giggle and surveyed the room from this new height. His eyes widened when he saw Jim.

“Captain Jim! Look how tall I am!”

Anfin was a little more bashful at the sight of her CO, considering she had the fourth in command sitting on her shoulders without a care in the world.

“Well, Leonard, I daresay you’re the tallest person on the whole ship, including Lieutenant Arex. I’d say you’ve got him beat by a whole three inches, wouldn’t you say, Anfin?”

She breathed a small sigh of relief before agreeing. “Oh yes, Captain. The tallest person on the whole ship.”

“Why don’t you come down, spend some time with us regular-sized folk, Leonard?” Jim was relieved to see him nodding. Considering the hard time he gave Spock in the officer’s mess, Len McCoy could be a real handful if he set his mind to it.

Anfin set him on the ground. Len offered her his thanks and a big hug on the leg for playing with him before she stood aside for the Captain’s lecture. The Lieutenant was sure she was in for it.

“So, what brings you to Sickbay, Lieutenant? Mister Scott not have enough to do down in Engineering?”

“No sir. I mean yes sir, he does. That’s why I was sent here.” She replied quickly, “Mister Scott wants to run some more sophisticated tests with the transporter, and he was wondering if… if you could _spare some hands_ to help.” Anfin gave him a significant look.

“Ah.” Jim saw what she was getting at. Anfin was clever, even if she did have a tendency to show off. So long as there was no news from Chapel, Jim didn’t see any harm in a little friendly deception.

“Anfin, you know we’ve got no one to spare! What was Mister Scott thinking, that we just had someone sitting around, bored, with nothing to do?”

He saw the realization hit Leonard out of the corner of his eye.

“Me! I don’t have a thing to do, Captain Jim sir!” He waved his hand in the air. “Nurse Chapel’s just gonna make me sit around all day with nothing but that big old sehlat bear to play with.”

“I don’t know…” Jim tried not to let his amusement show. Anfin had a much better poker face.

“Please? I already promised Nurse Chapel I’d be good!” Len tugged on his pant leg for emphasis. Jim understood what Chapel meant. He was almost too hard to say ‘no’ to. Good thing there wouldn’t be any crushing blows delivered today.

Jim pretended to be deep in thought. “I suppose. If Nurse Chapel agrees, Lieutenant Anfin can escort you down to Engineering.”

Len looked like he was about to start bouncing off the walls. “I’m gonna go ask her right now!” He tore off through the doorway, towards the CMO’s office. No doubt Chapel was holed up in there.

“He’s quite a handful, isn’t he?” Jim commented.

Anfin nodded. “Yes sir. I think he was glad to make a new friend, even if he usually _doesn’t_ like seeing me in Sickbay.” The Liutenant wasn’t nearly accident prone, but she had a bad habit of overextending herself in times of crisis. That, and the rec room stunts…

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you pretty quickly.” Jim grinned as the pounding of little feet could be heard headed their way. Len leapt at Lieutenant Anfin and was saved from crashing by her quick reflexes.

“She said yes!” Len yelled, swinging his arms and legs as he was hoisted into the air. “Carry me like a football, Annie!”

 _Yolanda_ Anfin obliged him anyway. Len was slung under one arm like a football, grinning and holding on for dear life.

“We’ll be in Engineering if you need anything, sir.” Lieutenant Anfin smiled and headed out of Sickbay. Len hollered “Bye, Captain Jim!” before they cleared the doors.

Nurse Chapel chose that moment to appear from the other room. She looked tired, probably hadn’t rested well. Had anyone in Medical? Jim was sure they were all worried sick on their CMO’s behalf. This little bundle of joy was adorable, but they wanted their Doctor McCoy back.

“How is he?” Jim asked, all the playfulness gone from his voice.

“Stressed in ways we don’t really understand, sir.” Chapel sighed. “Nurse Radley said he has nightmares.”

Jim frowned. McCoy wasn’t much of a nightmare man, save the handful of times he’d mentioned to Jim, and those usually after a night of heavy drinking.

“Could it just be the environment? Maybe he’s anxious here.”

Chapel pursed her lips. “I thought about it. I don’t think there’s anything to rule out at this juncture, but there’s always the possibility that he knows something’s off, subconsciously, and… I don’t know- Maybe it’s trying to tell him.”

Jim crossed his arms and stared at the floor. No, none of this sounded good, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it right now. He just hoped Scotty could find the answers. Between him and Spock, they were the best hope Bones had.


	5. Things Heat Up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, and we get a mix of angst and insight.

Lieutenant Anfin didn’t mind acting as a personnel transport. As long as little Len didn’t try to pull her hair, she didn’t mind at all.

She towered over some of the other crewmen, which delighted her passenger to no end. The lower ceilings in the corridors prompted Anfin to encourage a piggyback ride, just for safety’s sake. She didn’t want the Captain or Nurse Chapel biting off her head because Leonard McCoy had bumped his.

At least he was in a good mood. Anfin had grown up the oldest of dozens of cousins, many of whom had been ornery. She had a fondness for children, cultivated by years of babysitting. She knew how to handle a misbehaving toddler. Again, luckily, Leonard McCoy proved to be the very soul of etiquette if he was suitably entertained.

Once the excitement of the turbolift was over, Len decided he wanted to walk. Anfin let him down, but held onto his itty-bitty hand for safety. Engineering could be dangerous.

Mister Scott was elbow deep in a control panel. Something sparked and he bit his lip to keep from swearing, but he did give the ol’ circuits a growl. He didn’t see Len dart behind Anfin’s leg.

“Mister Scott…?” She made sure to back the call with more than enough volume to get his attention.

Scotty looked up just as the wee hose burst and shot the side of his face with conductivity fluid. He sputtered and tried to put a clamp on the blasted thing. “I’ll be a minute, Lieutenant!”

Anfin didn’t say anything, but she decided Leonard might need a bit of reassurance. “It’s just Mister Scott. We came to give him a hand.”

Len held tight to her pant leg. “I wanna go back to Sickbay.”

“None of that now, Cadet!” She hiked her leg up and pulled the child off. Back in her strong hands, Len started pumping his legs in an effort to get back to the floor. “That’s no way to behave in front of your commanding officer!” She kept a firm grip on one of his hands but set him back down on the floor.

By this time, Scotty had taken notice of the situation. Engineering could be loud, yes, and scary probably, but he’d never seen the fear directed towards _him_ unless it was from one of his ensigns post-explosion.

“Lieutenant Anfin! I see you’ve found us a volunteer.” Scotty grinned and wiped the conductivity fluid off the side of his face. “I’m always glad to have some helping hands around!”

It didn’t ease Leonard’s expression much. He still seemed pretty worried.

“Yes sir.” Anfin responded. “This is Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy, reporting for duty.”

“Aye, we’ve met.” Scotty smiled, but he wasn’t all jokes and grins. To see his dear friend catapulted back into the body of a scared little boy…

“And… what will we be helping you with, Mister Scott, sir?” Anfin was doing her best to subtly keep Leonard from hiding behind her legs. Scotty wasn’t so hurt. He’d heard about the various reactions Spock had earned.

“Well, we’ve got to run a full diagnostic on the transporter, and have our wee friend here help us scan energy pathways.” The energy being what ought to have ended up as a full-grown, 40-odd year old man. They’d give Leonard a variety of scans while the transporter was still offline. The tricorders couldn’t do _everything…_

The lad himself was silent. He stared at his shoes and held Anfin’s hand tightly. Scotty wasn’t going to pout- right here in front of a good deal of subordinates who were gawking- but he wished everything _wasn’t_ so big and scary. Doubly intimidating too, since Leonard hadn’t a clue where he was or how he got here.

“How about you carry the toolkit, laddie?” Scotty offered the box out with one hand. It would take two of Leonard’s to hold it up, in all likelihood.

Hesitantly, Len took hold of the toolbox and managed to heft it up with both hands. Now that he had a job, he looked a little less intimidated.

“Alright, Lieutenant Anfin, Commander McCoy, we’re headed to the backup memory core for the transporter. Taldony,” Scott called to a Lieutenant up on the second level, “Mind the store until we get back.” He turned back to Len and Anfin. “It can’t be altered without an exact voice-print authentication. That’ll be the key to solving this mystery.”

Leonard didn’t ask ‘what mystery’. He held the toolbox as high as he could and stuck to Anfin’s side as they followed Scotty to one of the Jeffries tube hatches. It would be a tight fit for the Chief Engineer and Anfin, but little Leonard McCoy could probably walk upright. And it wasn’t a long way to the memory core, just past the first safety hatch.

Past the first hatch of dozens, Scotty entered the cramped space alone. There was no reason for Anfin to bring the whole party in, when only Scott’s voice was really required. The pair of ‘assistants’ waited out in the main tube area.

“Authorization Scott 0-0-1.” Scotty spoke clearly into the instruments. A green light beeped and the memory core slid out. The data chips stuck into the side would be handy for transferring the relevant information. “Leonard, would you bring me the toolkit?” There was a loose wire in there, but it wouldn’t hurt to fix now. Besides, it would make their little guest feel more useful.

Len hefted the kit up level with his chest and stepped into the low access tube. He waddled over to Scotty’s position and held out the box with shaking arms.

“Thanks laddie.” Scotty turned an instrument to the panel and Len turned back to Anfin.

The safety hatch plummeted down and an alarm started wailing. Lieutenant Anfin shot out a hand to grab Leonard but it was too late. The metal hatch slammed down on her arm and she had to bite back a scream. She could hear Scotty bellowing and Len panicking.

“Lieutenant! What the blazes is going on?” Scotty called over the alarm.

Anfin gritted her teeth and tried to pull her arm back. No luck. “I don’t know sir!” She yelled. “I’m stuck! What’s the situation in there?”

Her eyes widened as she noticed a wave of smoke wafting through the crack her arm made in the little door. Len was screaming outright.

“Mister Scott!”

“Lieutenant!” She could barely make out coughing over the alarm. “Try to reach the comm! Get help down here. Something’s fried in the memory core and now there’s a fire.”

Anfin turned, wide-eyed, to search the Jeffries tube. There was a wall comm about 2 meters back, but she couldn’t get to it with her arm pinned in the hatch. Unless…

Dropping her support and letting herself slide back, Anfin ignored the new pressure on her arm and extended her foot as far as she could make it go. She kicked out with her heel, then her toe in an attempt to mash that button.

The smoke was pouring out of the hatch in earnest now, and Len wasn’t screaming anymore. Panic surging to the forefront of her mind, Anfin swiveled and pounded the box with the tip of her boot.

“Emergency in Jeffries tube 57H, section 4!” She shouted over the alarm, “Send a medical team and fire brigade on the double! Mister Scott and Doctor McCoy are trapped!”

She couldn’t make out the response. Through the smoke, she could see that she’d dented the comm significantly. But if all was quiet save for the alarm, it meant something bad had happened inside the hatch. Anfin turned again and clenched her teeth so she could focus. There was a manual override out here, but if the inside circuits were fried, she might not be able to get it working.

Anfin flipped the cover and starting jamming buttons. It didn’t work, and neither did breaking the mechanism. She turned to her last resort, attempting to pry the hatch open with her bare hands. All feeling was gone in her pinned arm, but the hand she set to the hatch could feel the heat. She braced herself against the side wall and pushed as hard as she could.

* * *

 

They’d nearly forced Nurse Chapel into a biobed herself. She hadn’t been the first responder, but by golly was she close. The emergency team in Engineering had already pried open the doors when she arrived, and some brave men in red were pulling Scotty out. She’d panicked initially when Leonard was nowhere to be seen, but it appeared that even when unconscious Scotty was a miracle worker.

An engineer stepped past to put out the last of the fire and Chapel saw it. Either Scotty had gained some serious weight, or he’d earned a by from his next intensive first-aid exam.

Nurse Holland unstuffed Leonard McCoy from the Chief Engineer’s tunic and ran a scanner over him. “Significantly less smoke damage, Nurse.” Holland commented. “I think Mister Scott saved his life.”

Chapel spun the empty coffee cup in her hands. From her perch in the Sickbay, she could see everything there was to see- three patients with burns and lung damage, and one fractured arm.

“I should’ve never let him go.” Chapel murmured. This was her fault after all. If she’d just kept him safe in Sickbay…

“There’s no way we could’ve known.” Chapel jumped, unaware that Lieutenant Anfin was conscious. “Mister Scott was right there.” Anfin continued, “He’s the most qualified person onboard and even he didn’t see it coming. It was just a freak accident.”

The coffee cup stilled. “You should be resting, not talking.”

Anfin snorted, then proved Chapel’s point with a small cough. “And you should be talking, not beating yourself up.” She fell silent after that, either due to the drugs or the orders. But she was right.

Taldony from Engineering was in shortly afterwards, profusely apologizing for not having the system checked before everyone went in.

“It wasn’t a routine scan, so I didn’t think… Gosh, this was almost a disaster. Are they going to be in Sickbay all night? This is all my fault…” The nervous young Lieutenant was wringing her hands.

“If it wasn’t a routine scan, then you wouldn’t have done it anyway. There’s no harm in following standard procedure.” Chapel sighed. Taldony was too loud to stay in here. “They’ll all be released to quarters- even McCoy- tonight. How about you go get some rest yourself?”

She shooed the lieutenant out of Sickbay and waited for the other shoe to drop. Any minute now, Sickbay would be _graced_ with-

“Nurse Chapel! What happened? Where’s Bones?” Almost on cue. Uncanny.

Luckily, Doctor M’Benga jumped in on this one. He hurried over to intercept the two incoming COs before they could exacerbate Chapel’s headache.

“Captain. Mister Spock.” M’Benga was cool and calm as ever. “Leonard is fine. Mister Scott prevented most of the smoke damage from occurring by shielding Leonard from the fire and keeping him as low to the ground as possible. They should both be able to return to their quarters this evening.”

“Can we see him?” Jim cut straight to the chase.

M’Benga turned back to look at the biobeds. Scotty was swathed in bandages and Leonard was still asleep. “No, I wouldn’t advise it at this time. Seeing you two worried might set him into a panic. Just let us handle things for now, and we’ll tell you when it’s alright to visit.”

Jim and Spock turned from the room and loitered in the main part of Sickbay. Spock stood still as a stone, the turmoil in his mind invisible to the casual observer. Jim rubbed his forehead and growled.

“How could we let this happen?” Jim snapped. “I let him waltz right out of here-”

“I think we all need to stop playing the blame game, Captain.” Chapel leaned in the doorway with her cup of coffee. “Just spoke to Anfin. There was nothing anyone could’ve done, not even Scotty.”

She watched the Captain’s shoulders sag, and Spock’s stance softened just a little. Bingo.

“I feel like every time I’m away, he gets into more trouble.” Jim let his hands fall by his side. “I just want to… “ He balled his fists, at a loss for words.

“I find,” Spock spoke up, “at times, the logical solution to be constructing a carrier in which Leonard could sit at all times, and keeping it within reach.”

The two humans started at him in disbelief. Spock raised an eyebrow. “It would be effective.”

Jim cleared his throat. “You said he’d be released to quarters? Do you think he’ll be alright in his own room?”

Chapel bit her lip. “Maybe. It could trigger a memory, and at the least we might have the Doctor’s brain back.” On the other hand, McCoy kept his alcohol in surprisingly easy reach.

Jim seemed to have reached the same conclusion. “Maybe it would be better if he stayed with one of us. At least if he’s supervised, he’s less likely to get into any trouble.”

It seemed like a plan. “Alright. You can come collect him after he’s released. I’d think a light dinner is in order, along with plenty of rest. And…” Chapel paused. “I’d be prepared to read him back to sleep, just in case.”

With that sober reminder, Jim nodded. He’d do whatever he could for Bones, even if it meant babysitting. And with Scotty out of commission, it would mean Spock was on full-time mystery solving duty. What better way to study a phenomenon that have it stay next door?


	6. Guess who's going to dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? Ha ha we- *tugs collar* fluff, OK. OK let me think

Doctor M’Benga had his days. Being Acting-CMO wasn’t a job he’d like to keep, seeing as how it meant their CMO-proper was out of commission, but it came with some perks. Today, he’d managed to convince the Head Nurse to turn in early. Seldom to never did she take time off- let alone when there was a situation in Sickbay- but he’d talked her into it. Geoffrey M’Benga watched her take off and smiled. Yep. He still had it.

His PADD beeped. After the stunt the other night with the supply closet (boy was that fun to clean up), he’d made sure the alarms would automatically differentiate from an absence of lifesigns and the absence of a _patient_. It was the latter. Leonard was pulling another escape.

Calmly, M’Benga walked back into the room. He could see Leonard’s biobed was empty. The frown only started forming on his face when he saw where the boy had gone. Leonard was on his tiptoes next to Mister Scott’s biobed. A little hand reached up and grabbed the Chief Engineer’s arm.

“Wake up, Mister Scott.”

M’Benga put the PADD down. He didn’t like the way this was headed and it was time to put a stop to it.

“He’s still sleeping, Leonard.” M’Benga strode up to the side of the biobed and lifted the boy off the ground. The residency on Vulcan had plenty of perks. That, and young Leonard McCoy was just as easy to read as a concussed Vulcan. “I bet you’re ready for dinner aren’t you? Did I hear that you were supposed to eat with Lieutenant Uhura?”

Sometimes listening to ship’s gossip had its perks too. The faster he could distract Leonard from this, the better. M’Benga knew it would be bad to let him dwell on what had happened. Of course, he might also process the incident differently. What the young man needed was a change of scenery and a sympathetic ear.

Another thing he learned from the Vulcans had to do with the exact same emotional compartmentalization he was encouraging. It wasn’t wise to ‘ignore it until it went away’. That appeared to be the only option they had at the moment. M’Benga was no psychologist, nobody on the ship was- including the little man trying to see over the Doctor’s shoulder. That request for a ship’s counselor was going through _today._

“How about we call her, and you can go down to have dinner together? That’ll be much more fun than sitting around here.” M’Benga opted to carry Leonard until Uhura arrived. Lieutenant Anfin had been released already, so there was no one to entertain the wild young man.

Uhura, bless her, was plenty excited to take Leonard to dinner. M’Benga was relieved- so much so that he almost forgot himself and nearly let the little terror run free. If the Doctor knew one thing, it was that children shouldn’t go unsupervised. Anywhere.

“Doctor M’Benga?”

“Thank goodness.” M’Benga stood from the desk, taking Leonard with him. “Lieutenant. I think he’s going to be much happier with you than he is watching me write reports.”

Uhura stepped through into the CMO’s office. It was an odd experience seeing Doctor McCoy as a child, but she’d put on a brave face like the rest of the crew.

“I bet he will. I’ve been waiting for this dinner.” She grinned as Leonard hurried to her side. He was all cleaned up and perfectly normal looking save for the bandage on his leg. Scotty did a lot, but not everything.

Len reached up and took her hand. “What are we gonna eat?” He took off right away, tugging her towards the door.

“Now hang on, Leonard!” Uhura chuckled. “You’re taking _me_ to dinner. I think that makes you in charge of choosing.”

He didn’t stop, but the scrunch of his face told her he was thinking. “Do you like ravioli?”

“Why Leonard!” Uhura’s surprise was put on for his benefit, “How did you know ravioli is one of my favorites?” Of course, Doctor McCoy knew her secret partiality to the carnival monstrosity that was a potato tornado, but most people on Kirk’s _Enterprise_ would go for Italian. Most people with common sense, anyhow.

Leonard beamed. “My Momma makes it regular and frozen, but when I’m at the hospital Dad gets it outta the slot box.”

“The slot box?”

“You know!” Leonard waved his free hand. “Where you put the food card in and it comes out the box. Mister Spock got my pie out of there.”

Filing away the colloquial for ‘food synthesizer’, Uhura nodded. “That’s where we’ll be getting our ravioli too. I have your-… a recipe I’m sure you’re going to love.”

The halls and the turbolift were nearly clear. This was going to be an early dinner by Uhura’s reckoning. It would be best if Leonard turned in early anyhow. The officer’s mess had only a few diners, and what chatter there was carried on despite their arrival. Good. Better to keep things as normal as possible.

“Let’s sit by the plants!” Leonard pointed eagerly at the two potted plants in the room. There was a snug little table nestled between them.

“Oh, how romantic!” Uhura declared, chuckling behind her hand as Leonard dragged her that way. He was a sweet little boy. Maybe a little rambunctious, but sweet. “You have a seat and I’ll go get the ravioli.”

She headed over to the food synthesizers, humming as she located the right card and pondered over portions. Spock had trouble with this one, but Uhura knew a thing or two about messy eaters and self-control. Janice Rand gave her more than enough insight into a certain Captain’s dietary practices. And it would be _especially_ straightforward after Pavel “Give me 26 ravioli” Chekov’s display last time they all got together for Italian.

Leonard was bouncing in his seat by the time she arrived. Uhura made sure to get napkins set out before putting the food in the young man’s reach.

“Can I go with you this time? To get drinks?” He looked up at her. “I won’t spill. I promise!”

“Of course!” Uhura waited for him to get down from his chair before walking him back over to the food synthesizer. “What would you like to drink?”

Leonard’s eyebrows drew together. “Wine! You drink wine on dates!”

The outburst was loud, and it took every single ounce of Uhura’s self control to not burst out laughing. Some of the other diners weren’t so poised, but they tried to keep their giggles quiet.

Suddenly it occurred to her how excellent an opportunity this was. Uhura could see the table across the room trying to be subtle about their PADD cameras. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to stage a good photograph.

“You’re the boss.” Uhura opted for grape juice in wine glasses, though young Leonard would be none the wiser. She knew for a fact his mother would _never_ let a four-year-old child have wine, so he couldn’t taste the difference.

She handed down the glass and Leonard took it with the utmost care. He seemed to be aware that glass things were fragile. They walked back to the table together and Len set his glass down before tackling the chair. Uhura had to grab the rim and keep it steady while her date clambered into his chair.

“How was your work today?” Len asked before cramming a whole ravioli in his mouth. Uhura was right to get a little portion. It was hard to imagine this little mess turning into the Southern gentleman she often dined with. Of course, this was easy to overlook with the adorable attempt at small talk.

She smiled. “It was very nice. I spent a few hours reworking a speech Captain Kirk is preparing to give at a conference next week. The Keeviy are very particular about formal addresses. And of course, there was the subspace monitoring.”

Leonard stuffed another wad of pasta in his mouth and nodded. Once he finished chewing, he spoke up. “My work wasn’t so good. The office caught on fire.”

Uhura blinked. “I heard about that.” She paused, unsure as to how she could continue. This was a delicate subject and had to be broached carefully. “I’m very glad everyone made it out alright. Accidents in Engineering are dangerous, but we have very good medical and firefighting teams.”

“Yeah.” He scarfed down another huge bite. Uhura felt like this wasn’t going to plan, but then again, when did it?

She decided to start over. “What do you think of the _Enterprise_ , Leonard?”

He took a swig of grape juice. “I think it’s really big. I have to walk around with somebody or I’ll get lost! It’s even bigger than Dad’s hospital. The hallways there look different too, so it’s harder to get lost.”

Uhura smiled. “Have you been down to the rec rooms yet? There’s lots of fun stuff to do there. You can play board games or do all kinds of sports. Or hydroponics. There are lots of flowers and plants to see there.”

Leonard’s eyes went huge. “I want to go see the plants! When we’re done will you take me there?”

Aw, it was easy to fall under little Leonard’s spell- the charmer. It was no wonder he got so far. Chapel likely wouldn’t put up with him if he couldn’t talk his way out of the newest round of shenanigans.

“Of course. As soon as we finish this delicious ravioli.”

Oh yes. Everyone in the room had a PADD out. It was going to be a riot watching Doctor McCoy try to live this one down.

* * *

 

There was an emergency meeting being held in conference room 7A. All of the department heads- including Scotty, who refused to miss- save McCoy were gathered to discuss the crisis. Nurse Chapel joined Doctor M’Benga as an angry two-headed department that demanded answers near as much as the Captain did. Security Chief Freeman sat quietly. He didn’t know much about the situation.

“If we’re going to get _anything_ done-” Kirk braced his hands on the table and addressed the room, “-we’ve got to figure out _why_ this happened! Spock’s ruled out natural and unnatural phenomenon of an outside nature. That means the problem is internal. Scotty, what did you learn from the backup core before the fire?”

The Chief Engineer had one arm so extensively bound he couldn’t move it, but the other gestured wildly to compensate. “You’re not gonna like it, sir.” He was only here until it became detrimental to his health or he misbehaved. The twin-headed Medical Hawk was watching to make sure he didn’t.

Kirk’s pointed look prompted more. “The chips were fried, nothin’ t’do about that. But, I did see evidence of unauthorized activity. Can’t say by who, sir, but the transporter was tampered with.”

Everyone in the room ignored Spock’s “by _whom_ ” and considered the ramifications.

“You mean it was tampered with to produce these effects, or that it was an unfortunate consequence?” M’Benga posed the question. Scott inclined his head.

“It was intentional, Doctor. I reckon they meant to send him back that far, possibly farther.” Scotty paused and the room chilled about twenty degrees. “The saboteur couldn’t’ve known who’d be operating the transporter.”

“So, any deviation could’ve taken a few more years off?” Kirk frowned. That seemed like too odd a plan, to program the transporter to do something like that.

Scotty cleared his throat. “Not exactly, sir. What I mean is, unless they knew Doctor McCoy’s exact age, their intent may have been to send him back _all the way_.”

“A mathematical error-” Spock said, suddenly filling the silence with his grave intonation, “-that may have prevented the Doctor’s murder.”

There was a collective gasp. Scotty nodded. “Aye. Like you said. Whoever it was could’ve made an honest mistake, or simply programmed the thing wrong.”

“I doubt there was anything honest about this, Mister Scott. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Now…” Kirk glanced around the room. “…Any ideas on how we reverse it?”

Scotty leaned back in his chair and drummed the table with his free fingers. Spock had his hands steepled at his chin. Chapel and M’Benga exchanged a glance. Sabotage and murder?

“It might be a good idea to assign him some security.” Doctor M’Benga broke the tense silence. “After all, if he’s only four years old, it would be easy for someone to lead him away from safety or convince him to go somewhere with them. Just because he’s a child doesn’t mean the saboteur has given up.”

“Doctor M’Benga makes an excellent point.” Spock responded. “As a matter of fact, it would not be too outrageous to assume that the accident this afternoon was yet another unsuccessful attempt on McCoy’s life.”

Another collective sputter, this time with a good deal of that outrage.

“You mean to say someone in Engineering is behind this?” Scotty fought back a wince as he pounded both arms on the armrests of his chair.

“Not necessarily.” Spock clarified. “Only that someone with _access_ to Engineering had the opportunity to engage in further sabotage. And this is merely speculation.”

Kirk interrupted. “Rarely are your speculations off by much, Spock. Alright. We need to increase Security on McCoy and work on figuring out who our saboteur is.”

“I think,” Freeman spoke up from the end of the table, “we ought to begin with locating McCoy and restricting his movements. It may be unpleasant for him, but it would be better than the alternative. Then, we should investigate transfers, no matter how good their recommendations were. Even if they have an impeccable record, they could always be harboring secret resentment against Doctor McCoy.”

The rest of the table murmured in agreement. There was a reason Freeman was Security Chief.

“Alright. Let’s get it done. Spock, do you suppose it’s about the good Doctor’s bedtime?”

Spock rose from the table and straightened his uniform tunic. “Indeed. We should collect him from wherever Lieutenant Uhura has decided to spend the evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No regerts
> 
> Also, just some fun facts for the cruise: Anfin has sick awesome dreads and both she and Taldony wear the pants uniform. Scotty's arm is basically just a blunt weapon now, though it causes him pain to hit anything. Also, if anyone draws the two-headed medical harbinger or variations thereupon, I will dedicate the next chapter to you.


	7. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mysteries abound, and suspects are named!

They were able to find Uhura quickly. A group of officers huddled around a lieutenant’s PADD told them the pair had gone to hydroponics after dinner. Chief Freeman personally escorted the Captain and First Officer down, keeping a lookout for both danger and the team that would meet them there.

“The suspect list,” Freeman said as he typed a sequence into his PADD, “unfortunately includes the entire crew. The transfers from the last 3 months are Lieutenant Meadows, Nurse Bradshaw, Lieutenant Anfin, Ensign Genglebach, and Yeoman Liu. We can rule out Bradshaw and Meadows, since they were both on duty at the time of the incident in Engineering.”

He passed the PADD to the Captain. “I don’t personally suspect Anfin, she’s a loyal and hard worker, but any of those three had the opportunity to sabotage the memory core backup.”

“Do any of them have the skill set required to pull off such a feat?” Spock asked.

“Each of them could, I think.” Freeman responded. “Anfin works in Engineering, but her specialty is hydraulics, not computers. Genglebach is with exobiology in Lab 2 but I wouldn’t rule him out either. Yeoman Liu has some skill, but I’m not entirely sure when she’d have the opportunity to access the systems.”

Kirk pursed his lips. “I don’t suspect Anfin either. Doctor McCoy has patched her up in Sickbay before many times, so there was ample opportunity to do something then. And now… She did everything she could to save him and Scotty, even risking her own life.” He smiled wryly. “Say what you will about dedicated actors, but in my book that counts for something.”

Freeman nodded. “I agree wholeheartedly, Captain. In the name of due-diligence, however, I’ll give all three equal scrutiny.”

Fortunately, nothing appeared to be happening in hydroponics. Leonard sat on Uhura’s lap, exploring the waxy leaves of a nearby fern.

“What does this one do?”

“Its pollen held the key to curing cystic fibrosis. The scientists that developed the formula won the Carrington Award the next year.”

Jim signaled the rest of the party and approached slowly. Nothing appeared to be wrong here, and he didn’t want to alarm either of them. Leonard noticed his presence first and waved.

“Hi Captain Jim! Miss Uhura was showing me all the flowers and medicine plants. Did you know that Cytherian rose petals taste like sugar?”

There weren’t any Cytherian rose petals strewn across the floor, so he could assume Uhura policed the situation well.

“That’s really neat, Leonard. Did you have a good time?” He smiled, but Uhura became alert. Something in her Captain’s demeanor told her something was up. She did a quick search of the room, unnecessary with the security team here but reassuring at the least.

Leonard nodded. “We ate ravioli and had wine like a real date!” Uhura directed a challenging eyebrow at the entire group, daring someone to accuse her- of all people- of negligence.

“That sounds like quite an eventful evening, Leonard.” Spock emerged from the mob and gave Uhura a nod. He’d done his own fair share of harmless enabling. “If you are ready, it is time to determine where you will be sleeping this evening.”

Leonard’s face lit up. “I don’t have to go back to Sickbay?” He beamed at Spock and then at Uhura. “I wanna sleep in the mess hall with all the food!”

“Not this time, Leonard.” Jim was going to be the bad cop this round. “You’ll be given quarters, but only if you behave.”

That caused a bit of a different reaction. Leonard scrunched up his face. “What about my shelat-bear? What about him?”

To Jim’s absolute astonishment, Spock fielded the question. “He has already been taken to your quarters. If you would like to wish Lieutenant Uhura a good evening, we may be on our way.”

Cutting right to the chase, Len picked up Uhura’s hand and kissed it before hopping off her lap and scurrying to Spock’s side. “Good night Miss Uhura!” He shouted and waved over his shoulder. Spock picked up the giggling Casanova and turned to depart.

“He’s quite the little charmer, Captain.” Uhura stood and commented on the retreating child. “I would’ve thought he’d grow up to be more outgoing.”

“Sometimes I forget he’s a father himself, seeing this miniature McCoy running around.” Kirk sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to let you know in person. This wasn’t an accident. We believe someone’s after Doctor McCoy and I want you to keep an ear open for anything.”

Shocked, Uhura couldn’t come up with words for a moment. Someone trying to kill Doctor McCoy? It was unthinkable! “I’ll be listening, sir.” She said, her eyes hard with anger and determination. “Will he be alright? Is that what this Security team is for?”

Kirk nodded. “We’re taking him out of Sickbay for security reasons now. Tell me- did you see anything suspicious today? Anyone do anything out of the ordinary this evening?”

Uhura frowned. “Not at all. Everyone was delighted to see him in the officer’s mess. Lieutenant Taldony waved at Leonard when we first arrived- she was walking with Ensign Ericks- and nothing out of the ordinary happened.”

“Alright.” He sighed. “We’re trying to narrow down the list of suspects to recent transfers. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“Please do.” Uhura folded her hands together in front of her. “I don’t want anything worse to happen to him.”

For a moment, Kirk was so touched he was speechless. What a depth of loyalty, of love between members of his crew… People said he was the luckiest Captain in the fleet. In moments like this, he believed them.

“It won’t. Not on my watch.”

* * *

 

Logically, there was only one place for Leonard to stay the night. Spock had the evening all planned out, from his meditation cycle to Leonard’s sleeping arrangements. Being Vulcan, therefore stronger and less susceptible to fatigue, Spock planned to stay up all night to meditate and monitor the young doctor. Now that the sabotage had been confirmed, the ship would be on high alert.

Spock rounded the corner. He stopped at the sight of a figure outside his quarters, and briefly ran through defense options that would best protect the dozing child.

Until he saw the large stuffed sehlat. It was Nurse Radley. Spock’s mind shifted back into low alert.

Radley noticed them and waved. “Mister Spock! I’ve got Leonard’s bear here. His door was locked so I opted to wait.” Misreading the suspicion on Spock’s face, Radley plowed on. “I’ve only been here a minute. Say,” he lowered his voice, “is he already out? I’m sorry. Here, take this and I’ll stay out of your hair. If you need anything, I’ll be on duty tonight.”

Nurse Radley stuffed the bear into Spock’s free arm and took off down the hall. Spock was… unsure as to what he should think of the young man. At the very least, he would give the stuffed sehlat a thorough scan.

Spock was about to unlock the door to his quarters when the corridor got another visitor.

“Spock!” At ease once more at the sound of the Captain’s voice, Spock turned to greet him.

“Captain.” His arms were full. In fact, he had to crane his neck to look Jim in the eye.

Jim stopped outside his door. “I think I’ve got an idea. We can sleep in 4 hour shifts, each one taking a turn to guard Bones.” He opened the door to his own room and ushered Spock inside. “That way, we’ll both get a chance to rest and neither of us will have to worry about keeping alert the whole night.”

Spock deposited the stuffed sehlat on the floor. “Where do you propose for Doctor McCoy to sleep?”

“It looks like he’s already mostly out.” Jim observed. It appeared to be a light slumber brought on by sheer exhaustion. “Set him on the couch and I’ll grab a blanket.”

Carefully, Spock did so. Despite his efforts to remain quiet, Leonard awoke.

“Mister Spock?” Sleepy eyes blinked up at the Vulcan. “Where’s my shelat-bear?”

Spock retrieved it and brought it over.

“Thank you.” Leonard mumbled into the back of the stuffed animal’s head. He was asleep again in a moment.

“Where did he get that thing, anyway?” Jim whispered as he laid a blanket around Leonard’s shoulder and tucked in the edges.

At times like this, Spock found that human idioms were particularly clear and enlightening. As was often the case with emotion, ordinary descriptions failed to accurately convey an experience, and outside references had to be made.

‘Tongue-tied’ seemed like a pretty accurate sentiment.

The prolonged silence caught Jim’s attention more than any words might. He looked to the stuffed sehlat, then to Spock, then back at the sehlat, before finally stopping on Spock’s face. Spock, however, stared straight ahead and at once understood the desire for ‘the ground to swallow me whole’.

“You got it for him.” Not a question. The Captain could see straight through him and out the other side. Transparent.

“It was a logical decision.” Spock countered softly. “I was attempting to set Leonard’s illogical anxiety at ease using more common coping methods for adolescent humans. The stuffed sehlat-”

“And why’s it a sehlat, anyhow? Not a bear, like humans have.” Jim was starting to enjoy himself. “And _where_ in the world did it come from?”

In a moment of perfect clarity, Spock felt his soul depart from his body. “It was a gift from… Doctor McCoy. After our journey to and from the Babel conference…”

Jim grinned. “A teddy bear with six-inch fangs.”

“As he so colloquially described it.”

That smiled still plastered on his face, Jim crossed his arms and studied the sleeping doctor. “It’s fitting.” He chuckled and walked to the connecting bathroom. “Do you want first watch? Or should I-”

“You should endeavor to rest before the investigation resumes tomorrow.” Spock spoke up quickly. “I will monitor the doctor until you awake.”

“Alright, Spock.” Jim was all smiles. “And we can keep this _sehlat_ thing quiet.”

* * *

 

Jim bolted awake to the sound of screaming. A voice in the back of his mind said he really needed to stop doing this.

“No! You _lied!_ You are a Romulan and you hurt Captain Jim!”

Now he was all the way awake, hurrying out from behind the dividing wall. Leonard was trying to hide behind the stuffed bear and Spock… Spock looked distraught.

“Captain.” He snapped to attention when Jim entered. The situation was well out of hand. That much was clear.

Jim came to the side of the couch and crouched down. “Leonard? Leonard, it’s me, Jim. I’m fine, see? What’s gotten into you?”

Tears were pouring down his face. Leonard shook and held the sehlat tightly.

“I want my mom.”

Heart shattering, Jim reached out and took Leonard into his arms. This only got the floodgates open. He was crying in earnest, sobbing into Jim’s shoulder and gripping the Captain’s t-shirt with all his strength.

Sure, it was all fun and games during the day. There were plenty of things for Leonard to do, people for him to see. But they forgot that- for all the similarities- he was still a small child. There wasn’t the same familiarity, the same bond of trust that they’d built over the years. This was Leonard McCoy before he was a doctor, a father, a Starfleet Officer. This was a scared child with no real idea where he was or why he was here. And there was hardly anything they could do to comfort him.

So, Jim sat. He let Leonard cry and cry to his heart’s content, he let him release the pent up fear and frustration. It was an odd mirror, a fractured twist on their regular evening talks. Bones would sit and listen while Jim poured out his own worries over a drink or two. Always the pillar of stability, Bones would offer advice and a balm for Jim’s tattered soul.

Tonight, Jim was adrift. He was lost in a hurricane of conflicting emotions, each promising a lighthouse but delivering another wave.

“Jim.” Spock’s voice broke the quiet- _the quiet-_ and Jim returned to the present. Leonard was awake but silent, still trembling.

He gave Spock a nod and began rocking the young doctor gently. “Do you want to talk about it, Len? Tell me what’s wrong?”

Leonard sniffed. “I want my mom.”

Jim took a deep breath. “I know you do. And I’m sorry that we can’t call her. I know it’s not fun, but you need to be brave just a little longer.”

“How long?”

“A couple of days. Not very long.” He hated lying to Bones, but what did they know? Sooner or later they might have to start looking into relatives on Earth, maybe his daughter. The starship couldn’t handle a child long-term. Something would have to be done.

Leonard looked up at him again. “Is he really a Vulcan?” There was fear in those tiny, red-rimmed eyes. “I saw him hit you with a big knife.”

Spock stiffened, but Jim didn’t notice. His brow furrowed. “Of course he’s Vulcan. I met his parents once and they were very nice. His father is a Vulcan ambassador.”

Rubbing one of his eyes, Leonard looked back at Spock. “It was merely a nightmare. Nothing more.” Spock’s eyes were dark, but he delivered the explanation with enough conviction. Leonard nodded.

“Back to bed with you, young man.” Jim said. He placed Len back onto the couch and rearranged the blankets. “Do you want a glass of water before you go back to sleep?” Leonard shook his head.

A little while later, Jim dropped into the chair behind his desk. “We can’t keep this up, Spock.” He put his head into his hands and sighed. “We don’t have the resources or the experience. Why did we take him out of Sickbay in the first place?”

Spock sat at the opposite end of the desk. “It was made in the hope that we would prevent tonight’s outcome.”

Jim sighed. “And we failed miserably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for a temporary solution, and a shipwide search!


	8. Monsters & Machinations

Leonard McCoy woke up and couldn’t find his sehlat bear. Sleepy eyes scanned the couch for his companion, but it was nowhere to be found. A quick scan of the floor determined that his big ol’ friend was trying to make a break for it. Couldn’t have that.

“ _Yaaah!”_

Spock jolted upright in time to see Leonard bounding off the couch and onto the floor, pouncing on the unsuspecting stuffed animal and shattering the peace and quiet. Jim Kirk held a PADD in his shaking hand. He was doubled over laughing.

“He can’t escape from me, Nurse!” Leonard didn’t notice that one side of Spock’s hair was pushed flat against the side of his head. Jim noticed. Jim kept the PADD rolling.

Leonard redoubled his efforts and hoisted the bear back onto the couch. “He was trying to escape! But he’s not allowed!” Spock’s attention was torn between discouraging the extremely childish behavior, or ignoring Jim and helping young Leonard with the toy.

“Good morning, Leonard. I trust you slept soundly the rest of the evening?” Spock switched off the tricorder that had been monitoring Leonard’s vitals all night. The scan information might also help Mister Scott reformulate the transporter pattern. Perhaps something productive had come from the so-called sleepover after all.

“Mhmm.” Len hummed. “Did you sleep good too? You’ve got sleepy hair like my dad.”

Jim lost the control he had over his laughter. Apparently, the time he took for a morning workout was sufficient for a Vulcan power nap.

“Do you find something amusing, Captain?” The steely glint in Spock’s eyes _dared_ him to comment.

Swallowing his mirth, Jim tried to make natural. “That little stunt with the bear. Too cute. I’m glad I filmed it.”

It was painfully obvious to Spock that this was not _all_ his Captain had filmed, but mutiny could wait until a more suitable moment than this. A moment without witnesses…

“Perhaps it is time for Leonard to shower and wash up for breakfast. Nurse Chapel has instructed me in the proper portioning strategy.”

“Breakfast!” Those lungs were certainly wide awake. A lot of the previous night’s melancholy had disappeared, and Leonard appeared as happy as he could be. Of course, everyone felt better in the morning.

Jim chuckled. “Yes, breakfast, after your shower. I took the liberty of having your other outfit cleaned. Do you need help turning on the shower?”

Leonard nodded. “Nurse Chapel helped me yesterday.” Jim nodded back and retrieved the bundle of clothes. He handed it off to Leonard, who trotted into the bathroom.

After getting the shower started, Jim left the little guy to his own devices. He returned to the couch to pick up the blankets and found Spock- hair immaculate- pouring over tricorder readings.

“Anything?”

Spock hummed noncommittally. It must still be early. “His sleep pattern is much improved compared to yesterday. Perhaps a combination of stress and injury proved to be exhausting. However…” He turned the tricorder so Jim could see the readings. “His brain activity seemed to increase significantly during REM sleep, at levels unusual for humans.”

“Huh.” Eloquent as ever, Jim perused the readings for himself. “You think you could use this to help get him back?”

“I believe it is a start, Captain. Mister Scott will be able to more adequately adjust the transporter.”

The bathroom door opened, and there was Leonard McCoy, shoes on the wrong feet.

“Bo- Leonard, let me help you with those.” Jim bent down and started getting the little shoes onto the correct feet. Leonard grabbed his shoulders for support. “Can you not _feel_ that they’re on the wrong feet?”

Leonard shook his head no as Jim finished. “They’re the same.”

“OK.” Jim wasn’t going to question it, not at this point in the day. “Spock, I’ve got to be on the Bridge. Uhura has that translated speech that can’t wait. Would you mind getting in touch with Freeman and looking at our options?”

The guard outside the door felt like enough protection for the time being, but Jim didn’t feel completely comfortable with leaving the both of them.

Spock pursed his lips slightly. “Mister Scott contacted me to obtain my assistance in recovering data from the transporter backup memory core. I can not watch Leonard all day.”

It was Jim’s turn to get introspective. He supposed having Bones stay with Chapel in Sickbay wouldn’t hurt, at least for just a few hours. “Alright. Drop him off in Sickbay when you need to go. I’ll be on the Bridge if you need anything.”

He stood up and clapped Leonard on the shoulder. “Well, I have to go to work now. See you for dinner, kiddo?”

Len waved bye and bounced up and down on his toes. “Miss Uhura says you like Italian! Can we have pizza?”

Ironic, how the man so stingy with his diet card would request calories of that magnitude. “Absolutely we can, Leonard, and I’ll have someone send down breakfast. Now, behave for Spock, alright? He’s in charge.”

“OK.” Leonard nodded seriously. “I’ll be good.”

Jim nodded to Spock and left the room, leaving the pair of them alone to fend for themselves. Leonard proceeded to pounce back on the stuffed sehlat. He pulled off some of the loose bandage and ‘checked’ the wounds.

“All healed! It’s a miracle!” He grinned up at Spock. Something prompted a different reaction and Leonard’s smile fell. He pulled the sehlat close to his body and stared up at Spock.

It was this encounter that Spock had been… not particularly looking forward too all night. Leonard was obviously uncomfortable, but Spock was the only one the Captain trusted with his CMO’s safety. He would have to find some sort of compromise. There had to be _something_ an adult Vulcan and an adolescent human could do together without the universe grinding to a halt.

“Do you… like the arts?”

They stared at each other in silence.

“I can retrieve coloring utensils if you would like.”

Leonard’s head bobbed slightly, but he didn’t move from his spot. Spock backed slowly from the room, not breaking eye contact with his charge, before turning into the bathroom and venturing to his own quarters for supplies. He did not have ‘colors’ as Leonard probably imagined them. Spock had calligraphic pens in black and blue, as well as a set of pencils for predrawing and sketching. This assortment may provide suitable entertainment for a young human.

He collected the supplies and some paper. Perhaps Jim had a wider variety of writing implements. The Captain would occasionally highlight a line in one of his paper books. It stood to reason that he kept such utensils handy.

Leonard was in the same spot when Spock came back. He was staring at a spot on the carpet absently.

“Would you like to draw, Leonard? Perhaps the coffee table would make a more efficient easel.” He set the paper and pens down on the table and went to raid Kirk’s desk drawer.

He could hear Leonard moving around, presumably towards the art supplies. It didn’t take long for Spock to locate some lower quality pens and a few highlighters in the Captain’s desk. It was a good thing, too, as children often enjoyed colors of higher contrast instead of monochromatic supplies used by more advanced artists.

The door chime rang, and Spock fetched his tricorder. One of the guards had brought down breakfast as Jim had ordered. Spock opened the door, scanned the French toast, and accepted the tray.

Spock returned to the table with the highlighters and the breakfast. Leonard had set the sehlat back on the couch and was attempting to sketch out something with his pencil. The little hand crammed down the end of the pencil to produce a heavy line swirling around the page. Two blobs were beginning to take shape.

“This is my friend, the fizzle lady.” Leonard pointed to a mess of swirls on the bottom of the paper. He picked up a slice of toast and continued scribbling.

Nodding at the indecipherable scribbles, Spock offered out the highlighters. “Is she one of these colors, Leonard?”

After some deliberation, Len chose the orange highlighter. “Kind of orange-y.” He drew on top of the pencil lines and made some jagged marks underneath the main mass. “These are her fizzles.”

Spock, for lack of something better to do, took up a pencil of his own. He began sketching out the hull of the _Enterprise_ as an exercise in precision. It would be at 1:1000 scale.

A blue highlighter crept into his range of vision. Carefully, deliberately, Leonard pushed down onto the paper and drew two blue lines from the middle of Spock’s precise _Enterprise_.

“The phasers.” Leonard said matter-of-factly before returning to his ‘fizzle lady’.

Spock drew around the phasers.

They continued in silence like this for nearly an hour. Leonard drew several other creatures, including ‘Mister Ball’, a dog with two heads, and a mass of spiky lines which he declared ‘The Captain’s Girlfriend’.

None of these were recognizable shapes or forms, but Spock did not comment. His scale _Enterprise_ was joined by a model starbase, a shaded IDIC, and a miniature portrait of Lieutenant Uhura- at Leonard’s request.

Between them, they’d only managed to break one pencil. Spock supposed things could’ve gone worse. He got up off his spot on the floor and crossed to the desk. With his back to the child, he pulled up the scans from the previous evening. The brain activity could, perhaps, be attributed to Leonard’s poor sleep and stress levels. Still, this was something he felt he ought to send to Nurse Chapel. Attached was a brief memo regarding everything that had transpired.

He sent a copy of the data to Mister Scott, who would no doubt be looking for things to help him sort out this problem, now that he was restricted to light duty.

Spock turned around, opening his mouth to ask what Leonard would like for lunch. He promptly snapped it shut.

Leonard had three of the highlighters grasped in his hand. He had just finished smearing a line down his leg, matching it to the rest of his body. Every limb, every bit of exposed skin, had been graced with multicolor marks.

“I am the monster of the meadow.”

* * *

 

Nurse Chapel liked coffee and advance warning. She only had one of these things when Spock, accompanied by two Security guards, held out a child to her at arm’s length.

“I am an unfit caregiver.” Spock declared. Leonard was very quiet.

Chapel took a long, slow sip of her coffee. “Because he drew all over himself with marker.”

Spock nodded. “It is clear that I possess neither the experience or the knowledge required to care for a child. I request that he be allowed to remain here while I conduct my research with Mister Scott.”

This was the part Chapel really didn’t like. “I’m afraid that’s a no-can-do.” She sighed. “Someone broke into the lab last night. We couldn’t find anything on the video, and no one saw who it was. Sickbay isn’t ... a good location.”

Spock pulled Leonard back against his shoulder, heedless of marker stains. “Why was I not informed of this?”

“We only just discovered the break-in. Radley found a broken vial _inside_ a locked cabinet. Other than that… no sign.”

Spock didn’t frown. “I see.” He pondered the situation a moment, before making a decision.

“I will supervise him until I am required in Engineering. Leonard,” He turned his head, “are you ready for lunch?”

“I could eat a truck full of cows!” He hollered, making a ‘monster’ face and snarling at the Security men. They were hard pressed to keep a straight face. It would still be too dangerous to have him eat in the mess hall, so Spock proposed to send one of the guards for a meal.

“We do not have cows onboard the ship, Leonard. Would grilled cheese be acceptable?”

The young man scowled. “I’m not Leonard! I’m the monster!” He paused. “But grilled cheese comes from cows so I _guess_ it’s OK.”

Spock inclined his head. “Very well.” He turned back to the Security team. “Ensign Yaelen, if you would retrieve one grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of ulan soup.”

Yaelen nodded and retreated from the Sickbay. Spock returned his attention to Nurse Chapel.

“If there are any developments, please alert me at once.”

She nodded. “I’ll do that, Mister Spock. But believe me, we’ve already got everyone in Medical turning the place upside-down for clues. They want our CMO back as much as anyone.”

Spock took his leave and escorted Leonard back to the Captain’s quarters, where another Security officer was standing guard. It was reassuring to know that the crew was on high alert, and ever vigilant.

Setting Leonard down, Spock cleared the breakfast tray from the table and collected the highlighters as well. There would be no more fuel for the ‘monster in the meadow’. Briefly, Spock considered having Leonard take another shower, but there was no harm in letting him play. That, and the Captain would find it amusing.

The monster in question was busy tossing is stuffed sehlat into the air and growling. He was absolutely carefree. It should not be so odd, Spock thought, since they had been keeping everything from him. Yet it amazed him how unfazed Leonard was, especially after his night.

Was it just resilience? Or was there some illogical property of the human psyche that allowed for the repression of trauma with ease? And Leonard’s nightmares…

The food arrived just then, and Spock took a moment to scan the meal before setting the grilled cheese on the coffee table. He was about to move the morning’s drawings out of the way, when he paused. From this angle, the orange mass almost looked like- Spock’s eyes widened. The fizzle lady, the two headed dog, the bipedal mass of stringy lines with designs on his Captain…

“Leonard.” Spock spoke quickly but kept his tone even, “Finish your lunch quickly and I will take you to the Bridge to see the Captain and Lieutenant Uhura.”

Spock hoped he would not get sick at such a speed, but then again, time was of the essence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to everyone who predicted Spock's revelation. Can you name all Leonard's "imaginary" friends?
> 
> Also: The monster of the meadow is based on a very interesting Thanksgiving experience. My mother was NOT happy I elected to do this BEFORE the family picture.


	9. Cat Naps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Scotty finally get down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly short chapter! This one's more plot than cute, but I promise some much more cute to come.

The Keeviy ship was due to arrive at the rendezvous point in half an hour. Kirk was ready to put his face in his hands and call it a day.

“Again. From the top.”

“How _kind_ of you to speak with me. Those I represent are grateful as well. The pleasure is _ours_ , most assuredly. If you would like to begin-”

“If you would _not be opposed to beginning_.” Uhura corrected gently. She was just as tired of this as he was, but one misplaced word or phrase could mean war. Because the Keeviy were a bunch of stuck up, pretentious-

“ _Captain Kirk. We’ve detected a ship entering this sector.”_

…-early…

They both exchanged a glance and shot up out of their seats. Kirk and Uhura raced to the nearest turbolift and wasted no time getting to the Bridge.

To say that finding Spock- his arms full of a messy, fussy child- standing just in front of the turbolift doors was a surprise. Uhura’s relief vacated the station and she made her way to her seat without comment. Kirk was a little more put out.

“Spock, the Keeviy are here and I need to take this call. Can’t you watch him for another half hour?”

Spock’s face was hard as stone. “No, Captain. There have been alarming developments in the doctor’s condition that Mister Scott and I must see to right away. You will have to watch him, as there has been a security breach in Sickbay.”

Without further ado, Spock deposited Leonard into Kirk’s arms, walked to the turbolift, and left the Bridge. Jim was still standing there slack-jawed when the Keeviy Ambassador appeared on screen. With nowhere else to go and no other options available, Captain Kirk hoisted Leonard up onto his shoulder and sat down in the captain’s chair.

“Captain Kirk.” Ambassador Gitl’ev addressed him. “I am grateful we arrived at a time during which you are available to speak. We thank you for your willingness to open talks with us, and we wish to convey our gratitude to your Federation for sending you out all this way. If you would not be opposed to beginning our discussion now, we would be most grateful. I do sincerely hope that we will not take too much of your valuable time.”

Leonard promptly dozed off. He’d exhibited ‘tired eyes’ and a general crankiness when Jim had returned to the Bridge, and it seemed whatever Spock organized for the morning was enough to bring on a nap. It seemed like now would be the time to pass Leonard off, but he had his tiny fists balled in the Captain’s uniform. No escape. Jim adjusted his hold. He frantically searched for Uhura’s words before beginning, softly:

“How _kind_ of you to speak with me. Those I represent in the Federation are grateful as well. The pleasure is _ours_ , most assuredly. If you are not opposed to beginning now, I am prepared for our discussion. My crew and I are very eager to hear you and your people, in addition to our excitement for the cultural exchange to come. Please, Ambassador, if you would…”

He made a gesture with his hand, something he and Uhura had practiced the other day. It was supposed to be a two-handed Keeviy greeting, but as his other hand was full of Leonard McCoy…

Gitl’ev’s cushiony brow creased. “I intend to make allowances for your otherness, Captain, but surely you would not insult me in this manner?”

Internally, Jim heaved a great sigh. “I mean no insult, Ambassador.” He continued, “There is a small emergency onboard, and we had to make do. This is Leonard, I am in charge of watching him, and he is asleep.”

He hoped that would be enough for Gitl’ev. The way the Ambassador was frowning at him, this might not be the case. _Dang it Bones,_ Jim thought, _why’d you have to go and attract an assassin now?_

“I do not see any reason to continue this, _Captain_ ,” Gitl’ev replied. “If you can not delegate minor tasks to others but instead infringe on my valuable time-!”

His voice rose toward the end of the sentence and Jim knew he’d have one heck of a mess in Bones got woken now. Unfamiliar environment, angry lizard-fish-man, it would just set off the waterworks.

“I would not be opposed to rescheduling, Ambassador.” Jim kept his calm façade up admirably. “But I do not take kindly to your insinuation. This situation is beyond my control, and my crew is doing everything they can to get things resolved. If I tell you that there is no option but for me to speak with you while in present company, believe me it means there are no. Other. Options. Still, I am more than happy to accommodate your schedule.”

He fixed Gitl’ev with a look usually reserved for angry Klingons or heaps and heaps of tribbles. “But wake this child in my arms, and things will become immensely difficult for the both of us. Is that understood?”

There was a long silence. Jim was beginning to sweat, since Keeviy weapons were nothing to sneeze at, but Gitl’ev didn’t look liable to combust. At the end of this quiet stretch, the Ambassador chuckled softly.

“I apologize for my behavior, Kirk. Unlike the majority of my people, I am do not always prefer to remain cordial in every and all situation. I find at times it helps me communicate with more… aggressive cultures. Very well. I find it agreeable to postpone our discussion until a date that more appropriately aligns with your needs. We will remain in contact with your Federation, and we harbor no ill will towards you for requiring additional time. Safe voyage to you and yours, Captain.”

Almost giddy with relief, Kirk nodded back. “The same to you, Ambassador. Thank you. We will contact you as soon as our situation is resolved.”

The screen went dark again and Kirk slumped back in his chair. Leonard was still out like a light.

* * *

 

Mister Scott was ready and willing to begin working at once. Spock arrived in Engineering and found the Chief Engineer dissecting the charred memory core with his one hand. That avenue would prove fruitless in the expedient resolution of their current predicament, but Spock knew two hands were better than one.

“Ah! Mister Spock.” Scotty got up from his spot and hurried to greet the First Officer. “Any news on the Doctor?”

This was the point Spock had been… reluctant to arrive at. It was an unpleasant revelation. “Indeed. I have determined that, somehow, Doctor McCoy has retained some of his memories. They are, perhaps, buried very deep, but nonetheless they are there.”

Scotty was shocked. “Are you sure? How can he remember anything? He’s never given us so much as a hint of recognition!”

Spock pursed his lips. “Your ‘hint’ has surfaced. This morning, Leonard drew several characters, which I initially took for the imaginative scribbles of a child. They are much more alarming than I originally believed.”

He’d brought along the page as evidence. Scotty took the single sheet of paper and frowned.

“I don’t recognize any of them.”

Spock indicated the orange blob. “Does this figure not bear remarkable resemblance to our acquaintance the Horta? And here-“ Spock pointed to some two-faced monstrosity, “- is what I believe to be the Alfa 177 canine which was split in two by our transporter. And here…” Spock paused, his hand hovering over what could’ve been a person, or maybe something more along the lines of a sasquatch.

“I believe this to be the creature that took the form of Nancy Crater and subsequently drugged and manipulated Doctor McCoy.”

Now that Scotty was looking, really looking, the shapes were abundantly clear to him. “Here! This is the orb that held yours and the Captains’ consciousness. It’s even got a wee face on it.”

Spock had not made that particular observation, but Scotty was right. The circular shape resembled a smiley face.

“It is enough justification for us to expedite our efforts in finding a solution.”

They got to work right away. The program used to sabotage the transporter had to be stored on the computers somewhere, unless the culprit kept the whole thing on a separate drive. Still, the computer would have some record of the thing being executed. They would have to comb through the logs from the last week- after the system upgrade and before the attempted murder.

The pair of them holed up on the second level in Engineering and started combing through the files. Spock would work his way backward, Scotty would search from the upgrade forward.

In the end, it was Scotty who reached it first, by virtue of having the back end. There was a broken slice of code in one of the early checkups on the upgrade. Someone had either made a critical error in recording the sequence, or someone had done a sloppy job of cutting and pasting.

“Mister Spock! Get a load of this!” Scotty isolated the sequence and brought it into its own editing zone. Spock walked over to the monitor and scanned the line of code.

“I believe you have located the instance of sabotage, Mister Scott.”

“Aye. Looks t’be. And there’s no record of who entered it. I know for a fact loads of my ensigns were swapping out for each other. None of them would be able to tell for sure who did this little bit of mischief.”

Spock looked at the code and found the console the data had been entered from. “Our saboteur thought to destroy the memory core, but would they think to erase the logs from the console? Provided it has not been subject to heavy traffic, the temporary data may still be available.”

They sat there a moment, staring at each other, before both jumping up from their seats and hurrying to the door. Spock had to help Scotty back down the ladder, but they quickly arrived at the console in question. It didn’t take Scotty long to find the time and entry. There was the imprint. Second to last on the saved entry queue.

“Download the sequence, quickly.” Scotty frantically tried to input the chip with one hand. The last entry erased itself. Spock acted, taking Scotty’s hand in both of his and cramming the chip into the slot, making the transfer as quickly as possible. Scotty pulled the chip back out.

The entry erased itself. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was too close Mister Spock.”

Spock inclined his head. “Indeed. This will be the first step in returning Doctor McCoy to his proper state. Now,” He eyed the chip, “we have some research to complete.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to everyone who guessed Leonard's "imaginary" friends.


	10. A Shot in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY can't I not... update the second I finish a chapter? NOW, it has to go NOW my brain says, but I'm like 'chill dude?? they just got one??? please calm down'

Jim decided to leave Sulu in charge for a few minutes. As soon as he got word from Spock and Scotty, he and the Security team hurried down to conference room 7A.

Chief Freeman was there, conducting a sweep of the room. “Hello Captain.” He inclined his head at the incoming party. “The room is safe. I’ve been scanning the corridors and rooms where you and the Doctor frequent for any clues. So far so good, though I did find something troubling in hydroponics.”

Freeman pointed to a container on the table. “No fingerprints, but those little scraps of metal were definitely once a listening device. I think someone was listening in last night when we made our plans. We might have to set up in a more secure location.”

Still drowsy, Leonard wasn’t saying or doing much. He was nestled up against Jim’s shoulder, eyeing the room and the new people inside.

“That’s that then.” Jim decided. “We’ll have to find somewhere more secure. And I think we ought to move into yellow alert. They know we know and that we’re searching. I think much more secrecy is a moot point.”

Freeman nodded. “Should we… have this discussion in private? I don’t want to cause undue distress.”

“That may be a prudent course of action.” Spock entered, nodding at the Security guards, with Scotty and Doctor M’Benga following close behind. “I have taken the liberty of bringing along what you might term a ‘babysitter’.

M’Benga nodded to the Captain before giving Leonard a little wave. “I can wait with the Security team in 7B. I’m sure Leonard and I can come up with something fun to play.”

That put a little bit of pep back into the young doctor. “Let me go play, Captain Jim!” Eager to release him and get on with the meeting, Jim complied. M’Benga and the Security team took Leonard next door, where he would be safe and out of trouble.

“Alright, gentlemen.” Jim turned from the door and addressed Scotty and Spock. “What have you found?”

Scotty straightened up in his seat. “It is, without a doubt, sabotage, sir. We’ve found the records and the code used to cause the transporter malfunction. With a bit of work, we believe we can resequence the original algorithm and make the Doctor his old self again.”

“That’s… that’s wonderful news!” Jim sat up straighter himself. “Any idea who is behind all of this?”

“Negative, Captain.” Spock picked up the report. “There is no way to be certain who is responsible at this point. Through further analysis of the code, we may be able to deduce the identity of the culprit, but no such evidence has been apparent thus far.”

Jim sighed and rubbed at his temples. “I suppose that’ll be good enough for now. But we need to crack down on the person behind all this before they try something else. I doubt they’ll stop until Bones is well and truly dead.”

“Or until they are behind bars.” There was just a hint of steel in Spock’s voice, and Jim pretended he didn’t register it.

“Alright. You two are off official duty until this is resolved. Do whatever you need to. I’m going to make sure Bones eats something. He’s not been himself this afternoon.”

“Ah.” Spock surprised him again. “I believe I can explain that, Captain.”

Jim gestured for him to go on.

“This morning, I discovered that many- if not all- of Leonard’s memories are still intact somewhere in his mind. You recall his nightmare, the one where I appeared to stab you-”

“The kal-if-fee…”

“Precisely.” Spock slid a sheet of paper across the table and Jim picked it up. These were obviously Leonard’s scribbles, but the significance of the images was lost on him.

“The Horta, the Alfa 177 canine, Nancy Crater’s impersonator…” Spock recited the names and Jim felt the blood drain from his face. Bones had been through a good deal of pain in his lifetime. An emotionally adjusted adult would be able to cope, but a four-year-old… That would be a plunge none of them were equipped to take.

“So we have to change him back quickly.” Jim determined. None of this could be allowed to escalate further. “Do you have a plan in place?”

Scotty nodded. “Aye sir. We’re ready to begin.”

“Then get going.” Jim stood up, prompting the rest of the table to follow suit. “I want answers as soon as possible.”

He walked to the next room and found Doctor M’Benga crawling under the conference table after Leonard. The little guy was sliding along the ground as quickly as he could. Conveniently, he was headed straight for the door.

“Whoa there, kiddo!” Jim bent down and scooped him up from behind a chair, laughing as he squealed with surprise. “I thought you were going to join me for pizza tonight!”

Leonard giggled. “Can Doctor Geoff come too?”

Jim grinned. “You have any objections, Doctor?”

M’Benga extricated himself from the chairs and dusted off his uniform. “None whatsoever. What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Pizza!” Leonard hollered. “I want pineapples and alfredo and bacon and-”

“Easy there, Leonard.” M’Benga gave him a soft reprimand. “Don’t want to upset your stomach again do we?”

Eyes widening, Len shook his head no.

“Well then,” Jim was quick to ease the tension, “What say you we head down to the officers’ mess right now?”

Security went first, as was procedure. The officers’ mess was politely cleared, and M’Benga went to get the pizza. Everyone on the ship knew what Kirk liked on his, and Leonard’s would be a matter of medical discretion.

Personally, M’Benga loved spinach alfredo.

He brought the three pizzas back to the table, where the Captain had already taken care of drinks and napkins. It looked like juice and water, which was perfectly fine.

“What’s on it?” Leonard asked eagerly. “Pineapple?” If it weren’t for M’Benga’s steadying hand on the tray, the whole pizza would’ve toppled.

“Be careful, Leonard. It’s very hot.” M’Benga set the tray down and pulled over some napkins. He handed the Captain his tray before sitting on the other side of the table. Leonard scooped up a steaming slice and started hissing. Yes, the pizza was hot, just like he’d been told.

Jim stared at his pizza for a long moment, and M’Benga was starting to wonder if he’d grabbed the wrong kind. To his surprise, the Captain picked up the burning slice and shoved it in his mouth.

“Geoff,” He began after swallowing the molten cheese, “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Boy, was the Captain preoccupied. “With the Doctor you mean? I think you’re doing fine. By all accounts, he’s as good as can be expected.”

“That’s just the thing- shouldn’t he be doing better? I don’t understand how to make the… the problems stop. How to make him comfortable and unafraid of the things he keeps thinking he sees.”

Geoff gave Leonard a quick glance, but the child was absorbed in his pizza. He didn’t realize who they were talking about.

“That’s out of your control. What you’re doing is enough. Soon, Spock and Scott will have everything straightened out. I imagine they’re working tirelessly towards a solution.”

Jim gave his pizza a lopsided smile. “Nobody knows a transporter better than Scotty. And Spock… I’ve never seen him so determined.”

It looked like the Captain was being too hard on himself. “You’re doing well. This isn’t in your job description, but you’re taking all this in stride. I doubt I’d find such round-the-clock supervision to come easy.”

“You’re right.” Jim picked up another slice of pizza. “Best we eat up before the walking stomach outpaces us by too much.”

Leonard giggled, recognizing the description.

* * *

 

“Will you please try it? For me?”

“No! I want to sleep on the couch, like it’s a sleepover!”

Jim thought it would be for the best, letting Leonard sleep in his own room. He’d had Security help him childproof it the best he could, but the child himself wasn’t having any of it.

“We brought your sehlat in here. That makes it a sleepover.”

“What about Spock? Is he sleeping in his own room too?”

“No, he and Mister Scott are working on a project.”

“No fair!” Leonard snapped back. “They get to have a sleepover but not me!”

Neither of the guards were being helpful. They opted to stay out of it for their own safety.

“They’re not having a sleepover Leonard, they’re working.” Jim was coming to the end of this patience. “I gave them a very important job to do, so now they’re going to do it.”

Leonard crossed his arms and refused to go anywhere near the bed. “You’re gonna leave an’ not come back an’ I’m gonna be stuck here all alone all night! Spock is working and you’re sleeping in there so I’ll be by myself!”

Jim put his head into his hands. “Look, Bo- Leonard, would you just _try_ this for me, please? I’ll come back in to check on you in fifteen minutes. If you can’t fall asleep by then, you can come on the couch but you _have_ to try for me. Alright?”

He looked to be on the verge of tears, but Leonard nodded. “If you’re not back, I’m gonna leave and go find Spock!”

The Security team would let him do no such thing, but Jim thought he’d agree for the heck of it. “Fifteen minutes. Not a second longer.”

Jim tucked Leonard in next to the big stuffed sehlat, turned off the lights, and headed a few doors down to his own room.

Leonard stared at the ceiling. He clutched his sehlat bear in his arms and tried not to cry. Captain Jim promised he’d come back, and he wouldn’t make him stay here if it was really scary. Captain Jim had said this was _his_ room, and Leonard had mixed feelings about that. He might like to have his own room if it had a racecar bed and he could play in here, but there weren’t any of his toys and Jim didn’t want to stay. He missed having sleepovers with Jim and Spock and Nurse Dennis. He didn’t want them to keep leaving.

But small as he was, his little body got tired. Leonard was midway to sleep when he heard the door open. Fifteen minutes already! That meant he could go stay with the Captain!

He blinked his eyes open quickly, but found it was still totally dark. Leonard turned toward the big door, but couldn’t see the light coming through. He pushed the stuffed sehlat to the side and thought about getting out of bed, using his sneaky feet like he had on Christmas Eve.

There was a hissing sound just behind him, and he could feel his sehlat bear moving. “There.” A stranger’s voice said. “You just wouldn’t die easy, would you old man?”

Leonard did the sensible thing and dropped to the floor, screaming. The stranger started shouting too, and there was a flash of red light. It got lighter in the room quickly after that. He could hear footsteps and shouting and crashing sounds, but he was curled up in a ball with his eyes shut tight.

Somebody scooped him up off the floor and started running. Leonard felt squished, but he didn’t want to let go of the uniform in front of him. Everything was still so loud. He wanted his mom.

“Captain!”

Jim felt the rock solid lump in his stomach lighten. Ensign Yaelen was running towards him with a bundle in her arms. The alarm was still blaring, but he could hear the stifled sobs from where he stood. Jim met her halfway.

“Bones! Leonard!” He took the child in his arms, sick with regret and guilt for what had almost just happened. “It’s alright. You’re safe now, I promise.” Jim looked to Yaelen for answers.

“He came in through Mister Scott’s room. I don’t know how he got in. The door was locked, and he’d need an override-”

“Who.”

“Nurse Bradshaw.” He saw Yaelen’s fists clench. “We found him with a hypospray and a phaser. And one of the good Doctor’s pillows is toast.”

Jim saw red. He could hardly see Yaelen right in front of him, could hardly hear the alarm over the ringing in his ears. He shook with rage, arms tightening around his dearest friend in the world. It hit him then, in the middle of his frantic breathing, just how small Leonard was. How easily he folded into a little ball. How tiny he was compared to a ship this size.

It was eating him alive, not being able to run in there and rip Bradshaw limb from limb. But he’d need two free hands to strangle that spineless, _disgusting_ traitor. He couldn’t let Leonard go. Not with those tiny hands holding onto him for dear life. Because it had been Leonard’s life on the line. It had always been life or death, and that truly resonated with him now. Jim had left for five minutes. It was a _miracle_ Leonard was still alive. And it was a miracle Jim hadn't snapped and killed Bradshaw with his bare hands.

But Leonard was scared out of his mind. He didn’t need Jim’s fury, he needed comfort and safety. Forcing himself to breathe, Jim returned to the moment and addressed Yaelen.

“I need you to make sure Bradshaw is locked up tight. Maximum security. He doesn’t exit the brig alive.”

“Yes sir. You can count on me.”

Yaelen took her leave and Jim ran as fast as he could to the safest place he could think of: Sickbay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shooting for 12 chapters here, I think, But I'll leave it open just in case something WILD decides to happen


	11. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have our suspect, but now what?

Spock was brought an incident report.

Scotty was watching him carefully. Almost imperceptibly at first, the color started to drain from Spock’s face. It took only a moment for Scotty to understand the implications.

“The wee Doctor?”

Spock’s head bobbed a fraction. “The assassin has made another attempt.”

The tension plummeted after ‘attempt’ and Scotty found himself able to breathe once more. “And Leonard?”

Spock’s lips remained pressed in a thin white line. “Unharmed, according to this. It might be prudent to-”

“Now hold on, Mister Spock.” Loath to give this particular speech, Scotty laid a hand on Spock’s arm and mentally prepared himself. “I’m sure the Captain has a firm handle on the situation. What the good Doctor needs us to do _now_ is finish this algorithm.”

Pausing, Spock fixed his gaze on the report. He seemed to be weighing the decision in his mind. It was logical to stay, but Scotty suspected there were several “logical” arguments for leaving as well. There was a good deal of turmoil going on in Spock’s mind. Scotty only wished he could help his friend make the right decision.

“There’s an old saying.” Scotty spoke up again. “Worrying means you suffer twice.”

Like magic, there was a twinkle in Spock’s eye as he turned to face the engineer. “Mister Scott,” he began in an even tone, “are you implying that I am experiencing worry?”

Scotty held in his chuckles admirably. “By no means, Mister Spock. I was expressing, in my emotional human way, my desire to continue working on a solution.”

“Then by all means, let us continue.”

* * *

 

“He’s not talking.”

Ensign Navejar activated the Brig’s sound dampening field around Bradshaw’s cell door. It was plain enough the man was guilty, they’d caught him in the act, but so far he wasn’t forthcoming about his motives. There was also a fat black eye Chief Freeman was more than willing to overlook.

“I see.” The Chief hadn’t figured Bradshaw for the man, not one of McCoy’s people, surely. They all loved their kindly but irritable department head. It didn’t make much sense at all.

“But what I don’t get,” Navejar began, “was how he got access to the memory core in the first place? And on top of that, how he managed to sneak into Mister Scott’s room of all places!” The Ensign paced a little ways away. “That’s senior officer’s quarters! How’d he do that?”

Chief Freeman frowned at the man in the cell. Nurse Bradshaw came qualified enough, with recommendations on par with what you’d see for someone trying to get assigned to the _Enterprise_. The frustrating part was that there was nothing really… _special_ about this new hire. Bradshaw didn’t have a criminal record. There were no red flags in his psych-eval. He didn’t have connections Starfleet had considered threats.

This was maddening. Freeman didn’t like closing a case until all the loose ends were tied. Here was the guilty party, but with no motive. That could mean anything from contract work to a wild vengeance plot. Neither of those made Doctor McCoy much safer.

“I’m going to post an extra guard down here. Let me call upstairs and get someone.” Freeman walked over to the comm unit and summoned another few pairs of eyes. Maybe they could discern something that he couldn’t.

* * *

 

Jim Kirk sat on a biobed and weighed his decisions up until this point. It was an undoubtedly bad move to leave Leonard alone in any way shape or form, regardless of the fact that the door was locked. Secure wasn’t secure enough, and it had nearly cost Bones his life. Jim would have to live with that.

But the rest of it, weren’t they doing all they could? Spock and Scotty were pouring over their solution as he sat here moping. They were getting closer every minute to the algorithm that would give Bones back to them. Jim looked down at the bundle in his arms and wondered why it wasn’t enough.

Messy hair stuck out of the top of the blanket. Bones had both of his arms folded tight against his chest, safe and warm inside the great big blanket Chapel had brought him. It was well into the ship’s night and he was fast asleep.

Maybe it hurt most because he knew Bones wasn’t a heavy sleeper. Or the fact that his friend’s quiet dependability in times like these was unavailable to him. There was no comfort, no solace in Bones’ words. He was a child, one who needed constant supervision and protection.

Leonard wouldn’t leave Jim’s side- let alone his sight. Chapel had done the examination while the young man kept a white-knuckled grip on Jim’s uniform top. Leonard was tired, stressed out, and too distraught to argue with. In the end, he fell asleep in the middle of a protest, a refusal to be anywhere else. Jim didn’t have the heart to let him down.

They sat together on the biobed, Leonard dozing, Jim contemplating his failures of late. M’Benga and Chapel were holding a quiet conference in McCoy’s office. They were likely discussing plans of action regarding Sickbay security.

It was interesting, sitting there, being fully responsible for a human life. Jim had never really understood how much hung in the balance. Any number of times, Bones could’ve had an accident completely unrelated to the assassination attempts. Children were so fragile. It almost pained him to sit here. Shouldn’t he put this precious burden in someone else’s hands?

As if she’d been able to read his mind, Nurse Chapel chose that moment to appear in the doorway. She looked as tired as you’d expect this late in the evening. Perhaps more so. Goodness knows how this weighed on her.

“I think he knows you, deep down.” She began, softly. “That’s why he’s restless with anyone else. I think you’re his closest friend in the world, and he knows it.”

Jim bowed his head and tucked up a corner of the blanket around Leonard’s shoulders. This was almost a peaceful slumber for him. There was the occasional noise- small almost inaudible- but it let Jim know this wasn’t a dreamless sleep.

“I wish he had a more responsible best friend.” He admitted. “Someone who knew what to do. Someone who didn’t make stupid mistakes that nearly got him killed.”

Chapel pursed her lips and leaned on the doorframe. “If it was any other child, you’d be fine. Unfortunately, this child is as much of a trouble magnet as he ever was. I doubt there’s a situation out there Leonard McCoy couldn’t make more hazardous to his person. Why, he’s almost as bad as Spock.”

Jim’s lip quirked upward slightly. “How are you holding up?” He studied her expression, temporarily disregarding the fact that his change of subject wasn’t so smooth. Did it pain her more to know that the would-be assassin was right here working under her nose?

“It’s hard.” The frankness in her voice was plain. “Hard knowing someone you’ve worked with for three months was all the time plotting to kill your boss. And you know Leonard’s more than a boss to me- to any of us.” She kept her volume in check. It was hard.

Chapel strode over and took as seat on the biobed. “He could’ve been dead months ago if it was different method. Just thinking of all the times Bradshaw could’ve snuck in the office while he was working late… killed him without so much as raising the alarms...”

She put a hand to her face. “You want to think you were some kind of idiot for not noticing. Like that would make anybody feel better. But, that’s the whole point. Nobody’s supposed to notice. Bradshaw was too good at keeping up appearances. If we hadn’t caught him in the act why…” she sniffed, “… he might’ve gotten away scot free.”

Jim took his free arm and draped it across her shoulders. “Then I guess we’re just a couple of suckers. I signed his transfer. Bradshaw really did seem like a nice young man.” His shoulders drooped. “I guess you can never tell.”

“Sure you can.”

They both looked up to find M’Benga in the doorway, hands on his hips. He didn’t waste a second in coming over and taking up residence in the adjacent biobed. He kicked his legs off the side and faced them both.

“He was always sloppy with his reports. I don’t know if that’s a moral flaw to predict murder with, but it tells me one thing: the kid wasn’t afraid to cut corners.”

Kirk frowned. “He might’ve been willing to do this for money.”

“Maybe.” M’Benga found his attention drifting to the little ball of blankets. “Maybe he was trying to shorten the ladder to the top. You can’t always tell if someone’s homicidal, but you can tell when they’re just a tad too dishonest for your tastes.”

Jim smirked. “Maybe we should ask Freeman who he thinks is a little too dishonest.” M’Benga and Chapel were both right. There wasn’t a way to predict what had happened here, but there were always signs of bad character. There were always red flags. Maybe just little ones, things to watch out for. But none of them had deemed the details important enough to try to correct. It was a collective moral short falling if anything.

It was getting too melancholy. Jim patted Chapel’s shoulder and tried to brighten the mood. “Don’t tell me you both came in here for a pep talk. I’m babysitting. Can’t be bothered.”

Chapel shoved his arm away, rolling her eyes. “If he’d latched onto me, I wouldn’t be complaining! Did you see those pictures Ericks sent around? Grape juice in a wine glass!”

They kept their snickers quiet. No, Doctor McCoy would never live this one down. Leonard stirred, and Chapel and M’Benga took their leave. They didn’t want to cause a panic if Leonard woke up.

As it turned out, he didn’t even open his eyes. It was plain that Leonard was awake, but he kept his head buried in the blankets, his fist clenching tighter into the fabric of Jim’s shirt.

“Hey there, Len.” Jim tried softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I had to run and run all day. I’m tired.”

Jim couldn’t laugh at that, but he did try to keep his tone light. “Well, it’s about 4 in the morning. You should be tired so late.”

Leonard stayed still. This was as lethargic as Jim had ever seen him, in this state.

“I don’t want to be scared.” He spoke up finally. Leonard grabbed the front of his shirt, fixed Jim with the most heartbroken little expression, and took a breath. “Help me Jim.”

Breath catching in his throat, Jim looked down into Leonard’s eyes. There was such pain in that expression he had to repress a shudder. Maybe Spock was right. Maybe they were running out of time.

“How about I tuck you in? I won’t go anywhere-” he hastily amended, “-but it’s awfully hard to sleep sitting up isn’t it?”

Leonard pondered this a moment, nodded, and let go of the golden fabric. “There we go.” Jim sighed. He set Leonard back against the Sickbay pillow and tucked the blanket around his shoulders. Jim settled himself back at the side of the bed. A little hand snaked out of the covers and sought his.

What could he do? Jim took the tiny hand and hoped wherever Spock and Scotty had holed themselves up, they were maybe a little closer to the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :) :P


	12. The Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scotty and Spock have the next step all planned out. Now, they just have to get Jim Kirk to stop beating himself up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spell-checked this and that's it. It's 2 am, I ust got back from Rogue One and my brain is toast. Tell me in the morning if this is a good chapter.

“That ought to do it!”

Scotty lined up the last few numbers in the sequence and told the computer to export it to his data chip. He held it up in his usable hand for Spock to see.

“Excellent work, Mister Scott.” Spock’s eyes glinted with what Scotty would never call ‘excitement’. They’d just finished eleven excruciating hours of programming. Now all they had to do was compile it…

Spock appeared to be waiting. The reason for the transfer onto a disk was not clear to him. Scotty swallowed the lump in his throat. Aye, it wouldn’t be.

“Mister Spock,” He began carefully, “I’m aware that Chief Freeman has apprehended the reprehensible individual responsible for all this, but as a precaution, I’d like to compile this program off the grid, so to speak.”

The eyebrow spoke volumes. It said ‘explain’.

Scotty continued, “Ensign Wallace can compile any program completely free of the _Enterprise_ systems. In fact, the Ensign has the only breach proof Landouer XPM byte grid system on the ship. We can forget worrying about a virus in the system that would seek and destroy counter-code. Ensign Wallace has us covered.”

That eyebrow went back up. “The Landouer system, though effective, is not Starfleet regulation. It is, in fact, prohibited because of its code-decryption functions.”

“Aye.” Spock might not be the best choice to relay this information too, but he didn’t have other options. “Well, ye can give the Ensign a demerit when we get there.”

Scotty took the chip in his good hand and headed out the door. Spock stood and followed, curious more than anything else.

Their trip took them all the way through the bowels of Engineering, past several locks, overrides, and even through one radiation check. Here, behind the warp core valence neutralization modulator, there was an empty nook with a door welded to it.

“It used t’be the modulator coolant system, but that got phased out in the last upgrade.”

“So you have made some upgrades of your own.”

“…Aye.”

Scotty keyed in a code for the door and Spock heard a bolt slide back. Not an automatic door, then. Scotty turned the doorknob and revealed the empty nook. There was a light area on the floor and wall where the modulator coolant system once stood, and where the power had once been connected, a series of cables had been wired in. The cables trailed along the ground to a desk and a single computer console.

The console had an ensign’s stripes taped to one side.

“Allow me to introduce Ensign William Wallace, secure computing system.”

Spock blinked.

It was an intriguing way around protocol. As long as the computer was considered an Ensign, blame would not immediately fall on Mister Scott. Of course, Spock knew “Ensign Wallace” was a piece of machinery. Starfleet on the other hand might not need to know…

“Me an’ the Ensign have helped stop up half a dozen data breaches this past year, whether it was from computer exposure to alien technology, or through a counter-hack offensive.”

“Impressive.” Spock could not say the pile of cobbled metal looked particularly functional, but if what Scott had said was true, this was a fine machine.

Scotty pulled a rickety looking rolling chair over from beside the door and sat down. He cracked the knuckles of his good hands against the desk and popped the chip in the slot. ‘Ensign Wallace’ came to life, opening three separate programs to maximize compiling efficiency and give them an estimate on when it would be done.

_13:55:12_

“Looks like we’re in for a wait.” Scotty leaned back in his chair. The countdown clock hadn’t reloaded to a shorter duration. Spock supposed, like the rest of the machine, it was operating at peak efficiency. But if it would take 13.9031 hours to complete, then he might apply himself to other tasks.

“Will you be able to complete the program if I were to step out and take care of… an errand?” Spock knew his duty lie first to the task at hand, but there was something else he felt he must do.

Scotty could see through him like he was transparent aluminum. “Of course, Mister Spock. If you wouldn’t mind sending someone down with a pot of coffee. It was a long night.”

Spock inclined his head. “I will make sure to do so. Will you require cream or sugar with your coffee?”

“Aye,” Scotty chuckled, “plenty of both!”

* * *

 

“He’s going to stress himself into a nervous wreck, Geoff. You’ve got to do something!”

“Me?” M’Benga countered, “The Captain won’t listen to ‘a good talking to’ unless it involves a very specific doctor and some alcohol. And medically speaking, neither of those things are practical right now.”

Chapel crossed her arms. “Still! Somebody’s got to get him out of this funk!”

“Doctor, Nurse, I believe I have a solution.”

Spock emerged though the doorway, feet totally silent. Neither of them had heard him coming.

“Thank goodness.” M’Benga sighed. “You’ve got to get him out of there. Leonard’s still asleep, but not for much longer. And once he wakes up, they’ll be inseparable. I don’t think the Captain is in the right frame of mind of childcare right now.”

Spock nodded at the assessment. “Knowing the Captain, I agree. If you would allow me to speak with him for a moment, I can convince him of the logical course of action.”

M’Benga made a sweeping gesture towards the door and Spock stepped through.

“Captain.”

“Spock.”

Softly, Jim addressed his First officer. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of their sleeping doctor. “He’s still asleep.”

“I can see that.” Spock paused. “Jim, I might offer a suggestion…”

Sensing something in Spock’s tone, Jim looked up. The worry lines were plain on his face, and there was a tension in his shoulders. Spock took a breath and continued.

“The crew is tense, as you may have observed. Though it is common for human crews to become lethargic during times of heightened stress onboard their ship, they are often put at ease again by a strong example of emotional fortitude.”

Jim stared for a moment, and then cracked a grin. “Are you saying I should stop moping around down here, and get up to the Bridge so I can give the crew a good display of ‘moral fortitude’?”

“It would be in the best interests of ship’s morale, Captain.”

The smile remained, but quickly faltered as a shadow seemed to pass over Jim’s face. “The last time I left him… The last time I went for a break- to have a little time off- Bradshaw nearly killed him, Spock.” His voice was soft, both with emotion and concern for his sleeping friend. “I don’t know if I can do that again. What if that _monster-_ ”

“Jim.” Spock interjected. That caught his attention. “As Doctor McCoy himself once said, guilt is the biggest monster of them all. If you find the Doctor’s safety a matter of concern, Mister Scott has assured me that he can finish our work just as quickly by himself, and that I am available to take your place.”

Something welled up in Jim’s expression- gratitude, relief- and he stood, gently letting go of Leonard’s hand.

“I owe you one, Spock.”

Spock’s eyebrow quirked upward. “I believe the expression is: I know you’re good for it.”

Jim clapped Spock on the shoulder and headed out of Sickbay with a lightness he hadn’t felt in days. Spock promptly had breakfast ordered for Leonard and himself. He would not be opposed to caffeinated stimulants at this time of morning.

Leonard awoke shortly after the breakfast arrived, possibly due to the smell of fresh waffles wafting through the room. He blinked sleepily and sat up. It took only a few moments for him to realize he was in a new place, but Spock observed that he did not seem alarmed. Leonard turned toward the smell of waffles and found Spock sitting there with his strong cup of tea. He blinked.

“Where’d Captain Jim go?”

“The Captain had to go to work. I have finished with my work, and decided to oversee your morning nutrition intake. Is it not a human custom to have ‘breakfast in bed’ on special occasions?” Spock passed the tray of waffles over and set it in Leonard’s lap.

“What’s special about today? Do we get to have ravioli again?” Leonard took the fork in his little hand and started stabbing at the waffle.

“If you would like, you may have ravioli for lunch, but that is not what marks the occasion for today.” Spock took a sip of his tea. “If all goes well and Mister Scott can successfully compile our program, we will be able to send you home.”

Leonard’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his fork. “I can go home? I can see my mom?”

“If all goes well, you will be returned to your proper place.” Spock kept his response measured and vague. He did not wish to get Leonard’s hopes up if the algorithm needed further adjustment. “It would be prudent to eat your breakfast and concentrate on nutrition. You will need to keep your strength up for the trip.”

“Like when my Momma tells me to eat my vegetables so I’ll be tall like Dad?” He scooped up another bit of waffle and shoved it into his mouth. Spock couldn’t help but observe the… gusto with which young Leonard ate. It was surprising that the child before him grew to have such good table manners. Of course, his mother very well may have trained it out of him.

“Precisely.” It was a suitable analogy. In reality, Spock was more concerned with the strain McCoy’s body might undergo during the transporter cycle. It would be best if he had appropriate nutrients already beginning to digest in his system, and that he avoid any unnecessary stimulants, save sugar.

“Can I still have ravioli for lunch?” Leonard asked, his mouth dripping with syrup.

“Yes.”

The conversation lulled as Leonard continued to eat and Spock sipped on his tea. The latter was occupied with his next step- retrieving a wet wipe for the syrup, discussing the protocol for this evening’s transport, going over Chief Freeman’s latest report- with the former licked syrup directly off of his plate.

Spock supposed it would be best if he brought up as little as he could about the transport itself, not wanting to draw out any unpleasant memories the Doctor had of transporters. No, it would be best to stick to topics the young Leonard found amusing.

He was done with his waffles. “What do Vulcans eat for breakfast?”

“Vulcans,” Spock began, “do not require… We have much different …” Leonard was giving him a look. “The caloric intake which is average for an adult Vulcan is quite different from that of a human.”

Leonard blinked. “But what do you eat for breakfast?”

Spock did not sigh. “Occasionally, fruit.”

“What about the rest of the time?”

“I do not always partake in the morning meal, as I have-”

“Momma always says breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Leonard interrupted. “It’s bad to skip breakfast.”

“When breakfast is not required, it is wasteful to indulge.” Spock retorted.

“Why wouldn’t you need breakfast?”

“Vulcans require a different caloric intake than humans.”

“Why?”

Spock pursed his lips. “Because our species developed differently from humans. We thrived in a harsher, more hostile environment until a time in which we could advance our agriculture to suit a vegetarian diet for the planet’s population. Since then, Vulcan has made advances in agriculture entirely different from the methods used on Earth.”

Leonard was quiet for a long time. It seemed Spock had settled everything.

“But why didn’t you eat breakfast?”

“ _Because I did not want any.”_

They were both very quiet after that.

Finally, Leonard started scooting towards the edge of the biobed. Slowly, slowly he approached the side.

“Leonard, where are you going?”

He stopped, looked at Spock, and seemed to consider his response.

“Nurse Chapel said the other day I could go to the rec room and play with the games. I want to go try it before I have to go home.”

That seemed like a reasonable request. And they had 12.596 hours left to wait. Spock made the executive decision and approved the recreational activity.

“I will escort you down and show you where the age-appropriate equipment will be.”

//*\\\

The rec room wasn’t exactly crowded at this time of the morning. All the early-risers had finished their workouts, and the lunch rush wasn’t due for another few hours. A few crewmembers were exercising, but they opted to give Spock and Leonard a wide berth. A few discreetly pulled out PADDs, but none approached the odd pair.

Spock led Leonard to one of the storage closets. Inside, there were various types of sporting equipment, as well as some of the gear required to play the more dangerous or complicated games. Seeing as how most of these were not suitable for a small child, Spock opted for the safest thing he could find: a jump rope.

“Have you ever participated in this activity before?” Spock inquired as he handed the rolled up rope down to Leonard’s level.

“Uh-huh. Momma said she used to play with these in school, an’ so did her momma, an’ so did her momma, an’ so did her momma, an’-”

“Yes.” Spock interjected. “The practice of skipping rope is a very old tradition, passed down in school environments and fitness organizations for both its cardiovascular benefit and-”

Leonard was already jumping rope. He managed to get one swing in before the rope hit the ground, at which point he’d step over the rope and swing it back around to repeat the process. Spock watched as Leonard appeared to completely miss the rhythmic and timing aspect of the activity.

“Look! I’m doing it!” Leonard stepped over the rope and dragged it across the floor once more. Spock watched on in silent, blank agony.

“Indeed, Leonard.”

Somebody had the flash on their PADD camera. Spock turned his head to locate the snooping party, but all of the loitering crewmembers looked suspiciously uninvolved.

“Look, Spock, Look!” Leonard was actually getting the hang of it, managing two or three swings before the rhythm escaped him again.

“With practice, I believe you can become quite skilled at this activity.” Spock folded his hands behind his back and settled in to watch Leonard happily skipping rope. A bright smile lit up the child’s face as he hopped back and forth in an attempt to make his jumping streak longer. It required a lot of coordination, and it seemed Leonard was improving.

Until the rope caught around his ankles and he plummeted face-first into the ground.

Spock stared, wide-eyed, and unable to move quickly enough, as Leonard hit the floor at the maximum possible speed without so much as a hand braced out to catch himself. The rec room was deathly quiet.

He heard the sharp intake of breath and knew it was over. There was no Jim, no Nurse Chapel to swoop in and remedy the situation.

Leonard bawled. He curled up and pressed his hands to his face, crying with all the force his little lungs were capable of. Drawing on what Spock had seen others do, he reached down and picked Leonard up under the arms. There was a red splotch on his forehead that would likely become a bruise. Spock wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t a serious injury…

He did the only thing he could think of. He rested Leonard up against his shoulder and patted him on the back- a human gesture of comfort and safety.

“There there, Leonard. You are not seriously injured. Though you are experiencing pain, it will soon fade into an unnoticeable level. At that point, you will no longer feel such distress over a minor wound.”

That did almost nothing. The wailing continued and Spock frowned slightly. “Leonard, this is not an incident over which you should, as humans often put it, ‘work yourself up’. If you examine the injury compared to the potential pain of a more serious ailment, you will find-”

“It _hurts,_ hobgoblin!” Leonard yelled into his shoulder. Spock froze. His logical appeal had failed, but more importantly, Leonard was behaving in a manner unlike he had been previously. He’d drawn on another memory, one not linked to his present state.

“I’m sorry you are hurt, Leonard.” Spock said softly. “I will take you to Sickbay and they will… make it all better.”

Burying his face in Spock’s shoulder, Leonard nodded. There were sniffles, yes, but no more rolling tears. Spock realized something then- the root of his problem. This child only served as a reminder of the man who wasn’t there, the only person on this ship who could handle this crisis. He was still gone. But that wasn’t the child’s fault. Young Leonard deserved more than a pat on the back.

Spock readjusted his hold so his passenger was more comfortably resting. He could feel the hot tears soaking through his shirt, becoming cooler by the time they reached his skin.

“We will make it all better, I promise you. Then, you may return home.”

That’s all they wanted after all. All he wanted. For Doctor McCoy to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm flying by the seat of my pants on this one. The next chapter, 13, is going to knock your socks off just you wait. But, again, it's like 2 in the morning. I'm peacin' out y'all.


	13. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally looking up

In Sickbay, Nurse Chapel had fixed his owie. She was gentle with her hypos and plasters, while simultaneously giving Spock a glare that said ‘Strike Two’.

Leonard seemed alright. This was only his fifth or sixth Sickbay visit in a few days. Spock felt like a heel.

Nobody informed the Captain of the ‘incident in the rec room’ as it would only send him into a wild panic. The nerves on this ship were too frayed to continue with a full-disclosure approach. Nurse Chapel was keeping a tight lid on this. Everybody in the rec room had been hit with a ‘keep this quiet’ announcement on her authority. Everybody in the rec room heard the underlying ‘or else’.

Leonard was kicking his feet against the side of a biobed, waiting very patiently for the ravioli he was promised. It was a waiting game now. 10 or so odd hours (10.4502, in Spock’s mind) left until the program compiled, which might put the ‘trip home’ after Leonard’s bedtime. Boy, would he be excited to stay up late.

Spock sat and tried to work over the logistics of it all. Doctor McCoy’s room was still being cleaned in order to get rid of residual scorch marks and what the Maintenance team called ‘that ozone smell’. It would be some hours before it would be ready, but before the transport was to take place. Hopefully, the room would be nearly as the Doctor had left it. Spock figured McCoy would want to spend some time alone.

There was also the matter of uniform. Doctor McCoy would either burst the clothes he currently wore, or otherwise injure himself if they didn’t give before he did. Interesting as the physics of it all was, Spock still had the problem of 1) organizing and 2) explaining the plan to young Leonard.

“Do we have to wait in here all day?” The little voice piped up. “All anybody ever wants to do is sit in Sickbay. It’s not even fun here.” He looked around the room for _anything_ fun enough to refute his argument, but found nothing. “Let’s go see Captain Jim! His work is fun!”

Leonard remembered that he could in fact get down from the biobeds himself. Spock suddenly found himself in the middle of a chase.

“Nurse Chapel!”

Having discovered this was _a game_ , Leonard began squealing with delight. He ducked under a biobed and forced Spock to seek an alternate pursuit vector. What he lacked in speed, he made up for in ingenuity. He grabbed a tricorder and hurled it straight into the air. Spock had no choice but to catch it and resolve to never reproduce.

Chapel was summoned, but Leonard slipped past her before she was fully aware of the situation. He hurried down the corridor, giggling.

“Leonard McCoy! You get back here this instant!” Having caught up, Spock continued the pursuit with Nurse Chapel. After they discovered they couldn’t simultaneously use the door, the pair of them took off at a run.

“If you weren’t my boss’ supervisor,” she shouted, “I’d kill you- _sir_!”

Spock had no time to wonder under which circumstances Chapel _would_ kill a man. Leonard could have gone anywhere. This was undoubtedly ‘Strike Three’, but those consequences might be waived if he could remedy this disaster.

The giggling seemed to be getting louder, which meant they were only getting closer. Spock and Chapel rounded the corner to find their quarry dodging between a trio of ensigns.

“Leonard McCoy!” Chapel lunged and grabbed him around the middle. “You’re in big trouble, young man!”

“You’re not my mom!” He fired back.

“Nurse Chapel is in charge of your treatment and, within her responsibilities in the chain of command, can execute any discipline she sees appropriate and morally sound.” Spock caught up in time to receive a very dirty look. Young Leonard McCoy was not all sugar and honey.

The trio made an about face and returned to Sickbay. Leonard was the least eager of all, but Spock found himself wondering what the next several hours would hold. Was it fair to put up all of these barriers? The ship was by no means safe enough for a child to run free on, but since they had apprehended the person responsible for the murder attempts, could not an attempt at leisure be made?

After all, why should Leonard have to suffer any more? Spock paused midway to Sickbay and gave voice to his newly formed idea.

“Nurse Chapel, do you think it might be beneficial to take lunch in hydroponics? I find the atmosphere to be soothing, but we will, of course, defer to your medical expertise.”

She stopped, turned, and gave Spock a quizzical look. Leonard hung limp in her arms, having given up and resigned himself to letting Chapel carry his dead weight.

“Now if that’s not the best idea I’ve heard all week!” A grin spread across her face as all the possibilities dawned on her. Leonard could run around in relative safety, and she could take lunch in hydroponics guilt free. Heck, it might even be a long lunch.

They made their way down, Spock splitting off to grab the lunch itself. It was serene. Hydroponics was always peaceful, but with the prospect of returning everything on the ship to normal within the day? Pure paradise.

Nurse Chapel practically lounged on the bench under the Cirideen miniature willow while Leonard made imaginary snow angels on the floor. She supposed there were worse ways to alleviate boredom.

Spock arrived shortly with the tray. There was a piping hot bowl of ravioli nestled next to a plate of Feurcane Caesar salad, which nudged up against the vegetable wrap.

“Lunch is served.” Spock set the tray down on the nearest table and Leonard was quick to hop up and join him. Chapel stood up and stretched before taking her seat, eyeing the salad eagerly.

Leonard waited a full ten seconds before digging into the ravioli. When he burned his mouth, it was all Chapel could do not to laugh.

//*\\\

Somebody had the audacity to knock on Scotty’s door. Idly, he took back the outrage and considered the possibility that it was Malley again with dinner. If that was the case, then the poor man couldn’t be faulted with disturbing his peace.

“Come in.” Scotty called. He leaned back in his chair, but not so far that he couldn’t reach the phaser concealed behind William Wallace’s slot hatch.

The door opened to reveal one Lieutenant Anfin, holding a suspiciously sandwich-looking parcel.

“Thought you could use some real food.” She tossed the brown paper bundle his way. Scotty reached out and caught it, eyeing it with some scrutiny.

“No mayo?”

“Not a drop.’

Scotty broke, chuckling as he tore at the paper. “You’re almost too late, lieutenant. I’ve only got about fifteen minutes left before we’re ready to reconfigure the transporter.” He took a bite of the sandwich and nodded appreciatively.

“Do you want me to head up to Sickbay and let him know?”

Smiling, Scotty nodded until he finished chewing on his sandwich. “Right away. And Anfin, do whatever Commander Spock asks of ye. He’s as… concerned about this as any of us.”

Anfin smiled back. “Will do, Mister Scott. I’ll tell Leonard you said hello.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter because
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> get ready


	14. and The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the curtain nearly closes on this tale, I want to thank everybody who's stuck with me, commenting, leaving kudos, and just reading this tumblr-prompt-turned-trainwreck. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm apologizing only for the wait. Everything else, well, I take delight in it.

“And all the little animals joined together in a toast. ‘To our host and to the meal,’ the old otter said, ‘and may this dinner be a happy one.”

Leonard could barely keep his eyes open. He was nestled up in Chapel’s lap, trying very hard to listen to the story. It was late; later than he was used to being up, and the effort he spent trying to stay awake was barely enough.

Spock had devised a plan, and was arranging his supplies while Nurse Chapel kept Leonard entertained. It would be draining to keep him awake, but with the time fast approaching they would need to be ready. Spock had several items laid out on McCoy’s desk. There was a pair of medical coveralls, a t-shirt, a pair of the doctor’s boxer shorts, socks, and an assortment of hyposprays in case something dire happened unexpectedly. Leonard had eaten a full and nutritious meal, as well as several other protein-packed snacks of Spock’s choosing. Full and sleepy, Leonard was unknowingly as prepared as he was going to get for the transposition.

“The littlest otter loved the banquet, but she wished her mother and the other brave grown-ups would come home. She knew peace was a very good and important thing, but it was hard not being able to give her mother a hug.”

“Mhmm.” Leonard mumbled. He blinked the heaviest eyelids at Nurse Chapel and asked, “But her Momma’s coming home soon, right?”

“I bet she is.” Chapel smiled down at him. “They sent a great team to the lizard village.”

“My fav’rite’s the big ol’ cow.” He shifted so he was leaning up against Chapel’s shoulder. “She can carry everybody _and_ tell funny stories.”

“I like her too.” Chapel glanced over to see if Spock needed anything, but the Vulcan was still pacing. The last time she’d asked, it was still 30 minutes until they could try anything. Patience was a virtue, but Spock seemed to be running out of it.

Suddenly, the door chime rang. Spock practically leapt on the switch. The door swooshed open and a very startled Lieutenant Taldony jumped back.

“Oooh, Mister Spock! Commander!” She held one arm in the other, and both close to her chest. “I-I’m so sorry! I was looking for Nurse Chapel! I burned my arm trying to close that breach in the pipe and… Mister DeSalle sent me down here!”

Spock’s expression remained totally neutral. “Are there no other nurses on duty?”

Taldony paled and scanned the Sickbay. “I didn’t see anybody! But… but the shifts are changing now, and I knew she’d be working still…”

Just then, Nurse Radley hurried through the main doors, with Lieutenant Anfin on his heels.

“Commander!” Anfin strode forward and addressed him. “Mister Scott says he’ll be ready to start the transporter reconfiguration as soon as the program’s done compiling.”

Exactly in time with Spock’s internal measurement. He turned back to Lieutenant Taldony. “Nurse Radley will assist you. If you have any further complications, there will be more experienced help available shortly.”

Her eyes widened, but Spock was finished with the conversation. He spun on his heel and began gathering things from the office. “Nurse Chapel, Leonard, it’s time.”

Leonard blinked hard, trying his best to shake the sleepiness. “I can go home?”

“Yes.” Spock responded and Nurse Chapel leapt into action. “Mister Scott is ready in the transporter room. All you must do now is put on this… transporter uniform. It is very important.”

Spock handed off the clothes to Chapel and packed the hyposprays into a hip pouch. Soon, they would be able to depart.

The Nurse whisked Leonard away to get him changed while Spock put a call in to the transporter room.

 _“Scott here.”_ The Engineer responded. _“I have everything ready when you are.”_

“Excellent work.” Spock checked his calculations and remembered another call he had to make. While Nurse Chapel helped Leonard get into the overlarge clothes, Spock phoned the Bridge.

//*\\\

Captain Kirk was in a surprisingly good mood. Scotty had been giving him regular progress updates on the code, and nobody’d called in from Sickbay to tell him that the biobeds had caught fire. Or something like that. Even the Keeviy Ambassadorial transmission had gone without a hitch.

Instead of Gitl’ev, Kirk spoke with Torlieg, and older and more _traditional_ diplomat. Uhura’s coaching paid off, and the conversation ended with a _joke_ of all things from the aging Keev.

“ _You know, Captain,_ ” Torlieg commented through his laughter. “ _Permit my anecdote but_ _I was told you were an uptight, brash, and generally offensive officer! Of course, you of all people should now how wrong that impression is! Ha!”_ His booming laughter almost made Kirk consider dropping the line of though altogether. But, out of curiosity more than pride, he couldn’t let it drop.

“If you would allow an inquiry,” He chuckled, waiting until Torlieg nodded his permission, “but who in the galaxy would say such a thing? About _me_ , no less!”

That got the Keev laughing heartily again. It was a few moments before he could answer. “ _An old friend of my advisor, it was. A well-mannered Romulan, very polite, but perhaps too free with his opinions. Permit an observation, but he lacks your good humor as well.”_

So _that_ was the angle! No wonder the Keeviy had been giving them the runaround for so long. A bunch of well-spoken Romulans had tried to steer them clear!

“Permit an observation of my own, but I find most Romulans to be _too_ free with their opinions, especially those concerning the Federation. They have- barring any implications, Ambassador- disagreed with our policies in the past and have endeavored to circumvent them. In a neutral statement, sir, we have a hard time getting on.”

Torlieg nodded slowly. He was quite elderly, but seemed to share a few misgivings about the Romulans himself. “ _I speak positively when I say I have met Romulans whose company was pleasant. In a more objective light, they are as a group less enjoyable as company.”_

“My sentiments exactly.”

Uhura had given him a stealthy high five when they signed off. Kirk could kick back and relax knowing that diplomatic talks with the Keeviy were open, and that Starfleet would have some juicy interplanetary gossip to chew on. All in a day’s work.

He was just kicking back in his chair when Uhura sat up straighter. “A call from Sickbay, sir. It’s Mister Spock. He says it’s time!”

Everybody on the Bridge jolted. It was like an electrical current had passed through the equipment and supercharged the air. The tension was thick enough to slice through with a phaser. Kirk stood, adjusted his uniform top, and looked everyone over.

Ensign Genglebach was doubled over Spock’s scanner, ready for the night’s shift. Kirk spotted Yeoman Liu passing out coffee. He shook his head. They’d got Bradshaw. Everything would be cleared up soon.

“Uhura, you have the Bridge. Everybody else, I should only be gone a few minutes. I have to pick up Doctor McCoy in the transporter room.”

That got a chuckle out of the crew, cutting the tension in half. It was just the thing for a time like this, luckily. Good thing he was about to get a good cheering up. McCoy would have some quip about transporters, then they’d have a hard time shutting him up. _Good old Bones,_ he thought, _stability in an unstable world._

Kirk got into the turbolift and made his way to the transporter room. He nearly caught himself whistling on the way down, but decided this wasn’t nearly so cheery an occasion. He’d have to put on a serious face for young Leonard, after all. The ship’s Captain didn’t whistle like that. No sir.

Scotty was the only one in the room when he arrived. The Chief Engineer waved a cocooned hand at him.

“Evening, sir. We’re just about ready to fire ‘er up.”

Kirk smiled. The best news he’s heard all day. “Excellent work, Mister Scott. How long do you suppose we’ve got before you’re ready?”

“Oh, only about-” Scotty was interrupted by the arrival of Spock, and the subsequent arrival of Nurse Chapel and…. A pile of laundry. Leonard was nearly lost in the bundle of fabric that encased him. He was wearing what was clearly medical coveralls, but beyond that, Kirk couldn’t tell what else. The coveralls were just so _big_ that nothing else was much visivle. He thought he caught the black of an undershirt. The boy’s feet had been swallowed by the pant legs.

Leonard himself looked _sleepy._

“Well hello there, Len! Are you ready to go?” Kirk put on his winningest smile. Really, he was happy. Just not for the reasons the child before him might suppose.

Leonard didn’t fight the yawn. “I’m ready. I want my own bed back. I got my racecar blanket.”

Kirk quirked his lip, knowing full well that Bones’ bed had been put back together after the attack. Maybe they’d break out his good quilt with the inevitable nightcap they’d be having. Bones would be plenty tired by all accounts.

Nurse Chapel walked over and set him down on the transporter pad. It would be inadvisable for Leonard to try walking in his current attire.

“Just stay right here sweetie, and we’ll send you on your way.”

He nodded. “OK. I’ve used one-a these things before. When I went to visit granddad. He lives far away.”

“OK.” She stepped back, something different in her tone. Kirk gave her a quizzical glance, only to hear a snuffle from behind. Mister Scott…

Scotty averted his eyes and started the calculations. Spock took the opportunity to step forward. He approached the transporter pad, knelt down, and held his hand out to Leonard. Opening his palm, Spock presented the Doctor with his ring.

“This is yours, Leonard.” He picked up the child’s hand, indicated the proper finger, and assisted Len into placing it on his pinky. It looked far too large on the pudgy finger, but it was back where it belonged. “Hold onto it tightly.”

Spock stepped back from the pad. Chapel had moved behind the console where she and Scotty could quietly console each other. Soon they would have their Doctor back, but… It was hard to say goodbye to the little guy that brightened up their lives so.

“We can’t keep him.” Spock heard Chapel whisper. “Except that we can. Forever. Once he’s back.”

“Aye.” Scotty sniffed. Spock faced dutifully forward.

“You ready Leonard? Mister Scott?” Kirk grinned and looked over his shoulder.

“Aye. Aye, sir-”

“ _Nobody-”_ a voice boomed from the doorway, “-is going anywhere!”

 

Stunned, Kirk whirled around towards the open doorway. Standing before them was a bruised and battered Lieutenant Taldony, holding a phaser to Nurse Radley’s head. The young nurse was white as a sheet, clutching his arm to his chest and sporting a few bruises of his own.

“Bradshaw, secure the room.”

Fresh as a daisy and boasting a phaser of his own, Nurse Bradshaw moved to the other side of the transporter room to properly cover Scotty and Spock. Leonard remained frozen on the pad.

Kirk was livid. Spock, too, was livid, but on the inside. The Captain’s white-knuckled fists looked ready to pound the nearest conspirator, or alternatively throw them out an airlock.

“Why!” He exploded. Everyone in the room jumped, even Bradshaw. Kirk was a regular firecracker when he was mad. And boy…

Taldony scoffed, limping as she fully entered the room with Radley. “The money! Honestly!” She looked more irritated than Scotty had ever seen her. In all the months she’d been on the ship, he’d seen no sign…

“Bradshaw doesn’t have the brains for this.” She said, in response to another unasked question: how? “He’s got a friend, but not the know-how. Though the hundred thousand we lose for the delay is coming out of _your_ share.”

Bradshaw seemed to take this in stride. “Think of it as my bail.” He kept his phaser trained on Spock. The Vulcan was undoubtedly the room’s most dangerous unarmed occupant.

“For what?” Kirk cut loose again. It seemed like he was barely keeping it together. Leonard, stock still and silent, wouldn’t move to wipe the tears from his face.

Taldony seemed on the verge of shooting everyone just to be done with it. “ _Boy_ are you thick! No wonder the Admiralty is always riding you, _sir._ The Romulans. The Keeivy. No Doctor, no diplomacy. Everybody in the quadrant knows Kirk can’t work without his full deck.” She snorted again. “ _For goodness sakes._ ”

Keeping one arm wrapped around Radley’s neck, Taldony turned her phaser on Scotty. “Get it going. I want this done with.”

Scotty crossed his arms. He didn’t look to be in the negotiating spirit, even if the symbolic motion hurt like the dickens.

“Bradshaw.”

The turncoat nurse stepped forward and pressed the point of his phaser against Spock’s head. Taldony turned hers back on Radley. “I shoot him one way or another. Four or forty?”

Utterly revolted and more than betrayed, Scotty fixed her with a hard glare before putting his hands to the console. “It’ll take a minute…”

“You’ve got one.” Taldony fired back. “I know you know those controls better than the back of your hand.”

Spock remained perfectly still. Chapel stood at Scotty’s side. Kirk, fists still clenched, tried not to make the kind of outburst that would end with phaser fire. Though, that seemed to be fast approaching.

“Security will be here soon.” He tried.

“No they won’t.” Taldony didn’t take her eyes off Scott. “Unless they can break out of the brig. Which, is kind of counter to the point, isn’t it?”

“ _Somebody_ will raise the alarm.”

Radley’s breath caught and Taldony didn’t flinch. “Not a chance, we’ve thought of everything. Anfin’s locked in a supply closet. It’s more than she deserves after ruining everything twice. _Mister Scott._ Minute’s up. Energize.”

Scotty turned to his Captain, sorrow in his eyes and helplessness in his posture. But what could any of them do? Kirk turned back to Bones, unable to come up with an apology. In a rare moment, Jim was speechless. He was utterly _lost_.

Leonard locked eyes with him. His tiny hands were bunched up in his coveralls. The tears rolled down his face, but there were no hysterical breaths, no little sobs.

“It’s OK. Put me back, Jim.”

His mask cracked. Jim inhaled sharply and Scotty, having run out the clock, activated the transporter.

The light on the pad shimmered and pulsed, seeming brighter, but more scattered. For the moment, no one was sure what was happening, only that the moment McCoy solidified, he’d be shot.

It was quiet enough, even over the whine of the transporter, to hear a pin drop. And in that silence, the transporter room doors swished open.

Spock didn’t hesitate. Whatever the distraction, he pivoted and pushed Bradshaw’s arms aside with nearly bone-breaking force. The phaser was flung from his grasp. In the blink of an eye, the nurse crumpled to the floor. Spock spun to face whatever was happening behind him.

Lieutenant Taldony was on the ground, and Lieutenant Anfin was helping Radley to his feet. She sported near as many scrapes as their saboteur, but Anfin’s posture and slightly bent spanner told Spock all he needed to know.

“Serves her right.” The Lieutenant panted. “She broke my arm with that emergency hatch.”

Jim could just about leap over the unconscious criminal and _hug_ Anfin, but Scotty’s gasp had him reeling.

“Sir! Look!”

The pattern was stabilizing. Slowly, the glow faded and there, there where they’d left a crying boy, was their Doctor. There before them was Leonard McCoy, as he should be.

“Doctor!” Momentarily, both Spock and Jim were frozen just off the pad, taking in the sight of their friend lost so long. McCoy was wearing the coveralls, one shoulder resting slightly askew. He had his mother’s ring on his littlest finger. The tear tracks were there, as were the dark circles under his eyes, but it was Bones. He was home.

Slowly, his eyes began to sparkle. His gaze moved from the doorway, to Scotty and Chapel, and finally to his two dearest friends.

“Howdy.” McCoy drawled. “I’m… awf’ly tiahd…” His accent thickened and his eyes rolled upwards. Luckily, there were two sets of hands to catch him. Nurse Chapel raced around the console with Scotty right on her heels. Radley, injured as he was, pushed his way into it as well.

Chapel had Spock’s emergency kit and immediately pumped a triox shot into McCoy’s arm. She whipped out her scanner faster than was probably possible and got to work. Visibly deflating, Chapel addressed the crowd.

“He’s fine. He’s exhausted and stressed beyond all reason but otherwise, ship shape. Should be hollering at the lot of us by tomorrow.”

The resulting cheer was riotous, fit to wake the dead- fit to wake anyone not Leonard McCoy. That man was out like a light. Jim was hugging his unconscious friend, hugging Spock. He might’ve seen Anfin lift Nurse Radley bodily into the air, but everyone was too excited to do much of anything but cheer. Even Spock, rigid and Vulcan as ever, made no comment on the illogical nature of it all. The relief in the room was palpable.

“Oh!” Nurse Chapel jolted. “They’re all still trapped in the brig!”

The brig. Where they’d need to take these two saboteurs and would-be-murderers. They would get to that. They would get Bones to Sickbay and have all this cleaned up right away.

But oh, what a good feeling it was to have their Doctor back. Even now, as he snoozed through his welcome home party, not a soul could keep their excitement contained.

“Scotty!” Kirk passed his portion of McCoy over to Spock. Loath to let go as he was, the Captain had a duty to perform. Spock took the weight effortlessly. Miracles were real, and everyone was practically floating.

“Open a shipwide channel. I want to let the crew in on this.” Scotty moved to assist him, just about as eager as he could be.

“Aye sir, with pleasure sir.”

The light blinked on and Kirk cleared his throat. “Attention, crew, this is the Captain speaking. I wanted to, first of all, thank you for your patience these last few days. I know you all have enough on your plates already without having to worry about… incidents… But! You’ve all handled it admirably, and for that you have my thanks. Secondly,” he glanced at the smiling faces in the transporter room, “we have our Doctor back.” Jim licked his lips, perhaps waiting for the inevitable cheer to die down, perhaps wishing to delay the darker side of his message.

“We need a two Security teams to report to the transporter room and the brig, respectively. There are officers trapped in the brig, and our saboteurs… here in the transporter room. The situation is in hand but _really_ ,” he blew out a breath. “we could sure use some help down here.”

A few of his companions chuckled softly. Spock, though no one could hear, let out an amused puff of air.

“Thank you again. I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say, I’m glad to have McCoy back. Kirk out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and OK fine. I apologize for how angsty this turned out. I meant it as a fluff piece originally, I promise!
> 
> ANd, the epilogue's gonna be so sappy you can sell it as syrup. I got y'all.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrap it up.

Chief Freeman didn’t have a lot of questions. He had a strong desire to forget the questioning phase entirely, and just press the maximum possible charges.

No, he didn’t have a lot of questions, but he was duty bound to ask. The truth and the whole truth would come out. He set up the recordings, offered each prisoner the list of basic rights, and sat back in his seat.

Bradshaw didn’t say much. He seemed content to face attempted murder charges. Freeman let him go.

Taldony had a whole different attitude. The Security Chief had seen the records and heard the senior officers’ testimonies. He was expecting more bluster, maybe the cocky act. But the lieutenant came in looking very disillusioned. Freeman set the recording.

“Do you understand the charges that are being brought against you?”

Taldony stared at his PADD, not saying anything yet. She looked up, searched his face for something- sympathy maybe?- before opening her mouth.

“I’ll tell you everything.”

Chief Freeman had a hard time concealing his surprise. “Alright. Let’s start with the basics: Who- and _why_?”

Taldony took a deep breath. “Dan- Nurse Bradshaw has a friend. I say ‘friend’ but I never met the coward.” She glanced back down at the PADD again. “I’ve only been on the _Enterprise_ a couple months longer than him. He said he had a plan for easy money. The Romulans wanted somebody to sabotage the Federation’s chances with the Keeviy and well, easy living outside the law doesn’t sound like too bad a life. Especially since we weren’t supposed to get caught.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “It was his idea to axe McCoy. I wanted to blow the engines remotely during the shore leave we all took last month. Bradshaw said no, it’d be investigated too closely.”

Freeman didn’t comment, though his blood boiled. It was the casual way she told the tale that disturbed him. Taldony’s only regret appeared to be getting caught.

“Anyway, all his ideas were awful. The pits. He wanted to poison the old man.” She threw up her hands half-heartedly. “Like _that_ would call for _less_ investigation. When I was on transporter, I overheard McCoy talking about how much he hated the things. Complained and complained until we finally got them all beamed down.”

Her eyes lit up slightly at the memory. “So I thought, why not give him a real reason to hate the things?”

Freeman had heard all he wanted to hear. It took a lot of self-control to keep his face dispassionate, to keep his reactions in check, to keep listening to this.

“But Bradshaw never double checked. I _told_ him the old man couldn’t possibly still be 38. I said no way. And I was right, as usual. Now we had a big problem, and I was going to have to cause _another_ accident. I respect Commander Scott, I do, and I figured he’d rather die in Engineering than anywhere else.”

She put her elbows back on the table. Taldony never once looked him in the eye, but kept her gaze roaming around the room. “But Anfin cost us more time. We were getting far too close to the deadline. I managed to get down and hear where they were going to move him. Planted a bug in hydroponics and heard _your_ brilliant ideas.” She fell silent again. “Bradshaw couldn’t even do that right. Didn’t lose his nerve or anything, just _grossly incompetent._ ”

For the first time, she looked up at Chief Freeman. “I’ll testify against him. He was the mastermind behind all this and he _deserves_ to go down harder than me. I bet anything he hasn’t talked, right? He’s hoping I won’t so I don’t expose him.” She licked her lips and leaned forward. “Reduce my sentence and we can go after his Romulan contact. That’s treason, and that’s a Federation leak. I’m sure this is more valuable than locking up two officers on attempted murder.”

Freeman set the PADD down. He stood up, straightened his uniform, and fixed Taldony with a look.

“Thanks to you, we’ll probably bring down _three_ people on treason counts.” He turned on his heel and ignored the subsequent tirade. Freeman had heard everything he needed to bring them down.

* * *

 

Leonard McCoy heard the beeping of a biobed monitor and recognized a healthy, stable rhythm. Whosever that was, they were in good shape. He stretched his arms out to the sides, and found his hand brushing someone’s shoulder.

“Doctor.”

“Spock.” He opened his eyes, blinked. The First Officer was holding a PADD and looking at him expectantly.

“What is your most recent memory, Doctor?”

McCoy blinked at him again. “No ‘good morning’?”

“Illogical,” Spock didn’t even miss a beat, “as it is mid-day.”

“Oh.” McCoy sat up and stretched further. “Well, I remember seein’ all y’all in the transporter room. Unless you want more recent, in which case I remember thinking about how if the ship’s First Officer has _so much free time-_ ”

“That is satisfactory, Doctor.” Spock set the PADD in his lap, conveying a lack of patience through his tone. “Speculation on irrelevant matters at this time is unproductive.”

Nurse Chapel entered then, alerted by the raised tones. “You’ve woken him up!” She hurried to the bedside and hoisted McCoy’s upper body into the air. He hugged her back, too surprised to question the lapse in protocol. Chapel was pulling his old trick of taking her worry out on Spock. It could fly this time, as McCoy was comforted by this embrace as much as she was. Maybe even more.

“If you weren’t recuperating, I’d have some choice words for him.”

“By all means, don’t hold back on my account.”

Chapel snorted. “I certainly had to these last few days! You need to tell me how you are and what you remember. And then you need to tell M’Benga the same thing, because he’s acting CMO until you’re cleared.”

“Well!” McCoy leaned back and propped his head up on his arms. “Then I guess I get a few more days vacation.”

Spock hadn’t moved before this, but he turned to the doctor with something of a Vulcan glare. All in the eyes. “That would be inadvisable. There are several reports awaiting your signature, as well as the multitude of injuries that have been sustained during this… crisis.”

That brought McCoy out of his playful mood. “Ain’t been called a ‘crisis’ since my great-grandmother was alive, God rest her soul. Alright.” He turned back towards Chapel. “I remember _most_ of it. Uhura and Mister Protocol here,” he pointed his thumb at Spock, “let me do whatever I very well pleased, I threw up a decent baked potato, and cried only a little more than I usually do in a three-day period.”

Spock’s eyebrows went up at that, unbeknownst to the two medical professionals having somewhat of a stare down. He wasn’t sure how, but the moods of the two humans in the room had chilled drastically.

“You gonna tell M’Benga, or should I?”

Chapel didn’t flinch. “I’ll get him. Mister Spock, a quick word. We’d best let the doctor rest.”

Spock held back his comment about the customary human sleep cycle and followed the Nurse out. Once they were safely out of earshot, Chapel turned on him.

“I’m not your mother, Commander, but usually as a part of my bedside manner, I _don’t_ blame patients for the ship’s problems the moment they wake up. Sir.” She held her PADD tightly in front of herself. Telling off a senior officer was usually reserved for McCoy, but she didn’t want to start a fight so quickly after they’d wrapped everything up. Spock wasn’t going to ruin this with his misguided attempts at welcoming McCoy back.

Spock seemed to take in and process this information. “I believe I understand, nurse. Though it would be efficient to expedite the Doctor’s return to duty, your perspective had led me to reevaluate my methods. Thank you.”

He looked like he was about to walk away when he spoke again. “I _am…_ grateful for his return.”

Chapel’s expression softened. Glad she’d gotten that straight. “I’m grateful too, Mister Spock. You’re allowed to go back in, you know. Just go easy on him. Imagine what it would be like if you had no emotional control for three whole days.”

He had not considered that factor. As Chapel turned and went to get Doctor M’Benga, Spock mulled over that revelation. Though he would never admit it to the man, Doctor McCoy was capable of remarkable emotional control. He was seldom one to break down, even under extreme duress. Spock could admit he would be… uncomfortable to say the least.

McCoy had his arms resting on his chest. He was staring at the ceiling blankly, wearing for a moment the same expression he had _after_ Spock had caught him decorating himself in marker. It wasn’t a happy look.

“Doctor.” McCoy didn’t respond- much in the way Spock had expected. Of course, this process would be difficult. _No emotional control_ , Spock reminded himself. “My previous comment was not made with full consideration of the facts.”

It was soft, but he could hear McCoy’s sigh. “Still true. Someone came after me and I nearly got the whole mission ruined. Not to mention the injuries. I reckon I didn’t have _control_ over my actions, nor was I _to blame_ per se, but…”

The Doctor closed his eyes. Not tired, perhaps, but weary. Weighed down by the last few days, McCoy was falling back on his classic failing: blaming himself. Spock had noticed the pattern a few times before. McCoy, under pressure and explicit orders, had blinded him once. The incident weighed on the Doctor’s conscience more heavily than anything Spock had yet seen, save for the death of the monster impersonating Nancy Crater.

There was only one solution. McCoy was a healer, and to heal, he first must find precedence.

“I have now fully considered the facts, and find myself to blame perhaps more than any member of the crew other than those who conspired to kill you, Doctor.”

That got McCoy’s attention. Spock didn’t exactly place blame upon himself, as it was illogical, but he understood the value of psychology.

“Indeed.” He read the shocked look as the exclamation hiding in the Doctor’s mind. “For a considerable amount of time, I was your primary caregiver. This time was spent illogically, as much of it could have been devoted to looking for a solution. We could have returned you to your present state approximately 17.235 hours earlier, if I had not.”

Spock did not personally believe his time to have been wasted, and refrained from saying so. He had found the experience… refreshing. He would not do it differently a second time, save for his lapse in judgment regarding food proportions.

“You helped save my life, Spock.” McCoy sat up further, a little bit of the old fire coming back into his tone. “Don’t kid yourself. I could’ve been killed a dozen times over if you hadn’t been hovering over me in Sickbay.”

Internally, Spock scratched himself a point. The first part of his plan was succeeding. “Additionally, I made several grave miscalculations regarding the proper care of a human child.”

“Bull.” McCoy was all the way up, legs swinging off the side of the biobed but not yet mutinous in regards to Chapel’s demands. “You’ve never _had_ sole responsibility of a human child before, Spock. You were raised on Vulcan and in a different manner than I was. There was no way you could’ve predicted anything that happened, since it was _illogical_ and formed from a totally different ideology than your own.”

Spock- as McCoy had once phrased it himself- had the Doctor hook, line, and sinker.

“Then it is only logical that I accept no blame for the events which were beyond my control, since at the time I possessed no training or experience in dealing with forces outside of my control, and minds conspiring against my goals.”

McCoy’s eyes lit up in triumph. “Exactly!” Immediately, a switch flipped in the Doctor’s expression. His whole face changed to reflect his sudden realization. Internally, Spock claimed the victory. Silence. McCoy was quiet for a whole minute before he locked eyes with Spock.

“You green-blooded menace.”

* * *

 

Gitl’ev and McCoy had been engaged in a heated discussion for the last fifteen minutes. Both the rest of the Keeviy and the _Enterprise_ guests at the party were dutifully ignoring them. To Jim Kirk, the distraction of both combative parties seemed to be a relief to everyone else.

Of course Gitl’ev had to make a remark about the child he’d seen earlier. McCoy had gone beet red, and they’d broiled things up to an appropriately muted knock-down-drag-out. In hushed tones, they began tearing each other to pieces.

“I haven’t seen Bones enjoy himself so much at a diplomatic event since you got your head caught in that-”

“Really, Captain.” Spock interjected quickly. “That is hardly an appropriate anecdote for the occasion.”

The Keeviy were delighted to lounge around the giant convention center and make small talk with anyone in a dress uniform. They were a sociable people. As long as no one started some sort of conflict, everything was peaceful. Kirk was beginning to think the Keeviy Ambassadorial Chief was going to ask them to take Gitl’ev off their hands.

“Bones likes a good spar now and again. I’m sure you’ve noticed how quickly he finds a bone to pick with you. I guess every so often he finds it fun to fight dirty. I think Gitl’ev just insulted his grandmother.”

Spock glanced over at the two red-faced combatants. They were remarkably quiet for the vehemence of their discussion. Yes, McCoy seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

“The Doctor had a conclusive response. I believe they are equals.”

Kirk took a sip of the Keeviy champagne. “Not like you and Bones?”

Spock almost didn’t rise to the bait. Then again, his Captain did seem to enjoy a few jokes in edgewise. “Not at all, Captain. In a discussion, rational reasoning will always prevail.”

“Of course, Mister Spock. I see the logic of it.” Kirk paused a moment to enjoy something for himself before speaking again. “Then again, there are times when even logic has to bend to the pitfalls of emotion.”

Suddenly wary, Spock chose his next words carefully. “I presume you have an example, though none springs readily to my mind.”

“Yep.” Kirk downed the rest of his champagne. “You just missed Radley’s call after you beamed down. I-Chaya Junior has been carefully cleaned and delivered to your quarters, compliments of Doctor McCoy.”

No indeed. Sometimes sentimentality was just frustrating enough to break down logic’s last lines of defense.

Spock’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who has commented and left kudos along the way! This was an uphill battle sometimes, making plot points up on the fly and trying to rework throwaway lines into retroactive clues. A mess, but a happy one! 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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